


Fish and Bird

by evilblackbunny



Series: The Beloved Dumpsterfire [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fisting, Hair-pulling, M/M, Master/Pet, Mayfly-December Romance, Open Secret, Robot/Human Relationships, Role Reversal, Slow Romance, Spanking, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, bdsm relationship, mass-displacement, sex comes second to feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2019-10-12 22:23:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 68,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17476055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilblackbunny/pseuds/evilblackbunny
Summary: Megatron and his earthbound Decepticons take a human hostage to obtain Allspark fragments. A mutual attachment forms between the human and Megatron, and they decide to ditch the original plan and explore things further. They play the role of master and pet in public… and the bedroom. This work of fiction explores the major points of their strange relationship.All caught up? Good. Primus forgive me.





	1. Year 1: Believer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human and the warlord depart, and their journey begins.

> _They bought a round for the sailor_  
>  _And they heard his tale_  
>  _Of a world that was so far away_  
>  _And a song that we'd never heard_  
>  _A song of a little bird_  
>  _That fell in love with a whale_

**Year One: Believer**

_**First things first** _   
_**I'ma say all the words inside my head**_   
_**I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh ooh**_   
_**The way that things have been, oh ooh**_   
_**Second thing second**_   
_**Don't you tell me what you think that I can be**_   
_**I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea, oh ooh**_   
_**The master of my sea, oh ooh**_

**x**

 

“We are leaving the planet.”

 

That's how Megatron broke the news.

 

The young man, now closer to nineteen than the day he was given his collar, looked up. Closing the book gingerly and setting it beside him, he stumbled out of his hammock. “So soon? Okay, uh, should I pack now, or later?” Cole didn't exactly have a lot to pack. He could probably fit everything into his hammock and roll that up in a bundle, truth be told.

 

“Cole,”

 

The blond blinked, looking up at the hellion with wide, gray eyes. “Yes?”

 

“We are to leave the planet within the next orn.”

 

“Orn is-”

 

Megatron hummed. “Roughly, two days.”

 

“Ah.” Cole stood, his rosary swaying against his shirt. “Why?”

 

“The space bridge is functional, and I have contacted a large group of Decepticons who cannot wait to see their leader returned to them.”

 

“Alright? Is something wrong?”

 

The mech pressed his black digits together, scarlet optics dark and narrowed. Cole knew that look all too well. The mech continued. "We will not be returning to earth. This is your last chance to stay on your precious, blue ball." Megatron blinked, brows flattening. He pulled his hands apart, and lay his helm on a curled fist, the other arm lying across the desk. "If you stay, I will never return. If you are to come with me, you will never return to Earth. You will likely never see Cybertron or the plans I have for it."

 

Cole's gray eyes went wide before he fiddled in thought at the rosary about his neck. "What good is a pet without a master?"

 

The hellion lifted a brow but remained silent.

 

Cole swallowed and slipped his thumbs under the collar. "This means _something_ , my lord. Even if it means I am _just_ your _pet_ , I still belong to you.” All the rough handling and forceful kisses on earth didn’t equate to an ‘I Love You’ in Cole’s eyes. Even so, he was willing to hold out for the rest for his life if it meant he’d hear it from Megatron.

 

Warm, blunt digits dragged down the human's back. With utmost care, he curled his digits under and around Cole's torso and lifted him upwards from the tank. "My Cole. Whatever are you doing?"

 

“I made my choice. You’re the only one who can tell me it’s the wrong one.”

 

Megatron’s brow creased. “If I were to tell you to stay on Earth?”

 

“It’d kill me, but I’d do it.” He gave a firm nod, still holding the rosary.

 

The hellion shut his optics and growled softly. "You're a fool."

 

“I know.”

 

A ruby-red optic cracked open. “Yet, you are _my_ fool.”

 

“To the end,” said the human with a smile.

 

The Decepticon adjusted his grasp on his human until his thumb rested upon his chest. Cole’s heart, ever present as any mech’s spark, thumped steady and strong. Not an ounce of anxiety. Not a breath of doubt. His devoted pet. “Then, my pet, you need to pack.” Megatron gently placed Cole into the tank, only pulling his servo back when he knew he had his footing.

 

“Anything I should leave behind?”

 

“Bring your books and clothing. We can’t have you running around the _Empirion_ nude.”

 

Cole cocked his head, brows furrowed. “Master, are you… uh… are your kind considered naked all the time, or is _this_ your version of not nude?”

 

He gave an amused huff. "Removal of plating is a vulnerability. I am, in human terms, clothed."

 

Cole frowned before cracking his back with a few, short twists. "So you've seen me naked a bunch of times, but I've never seen you naked at all. Sounds fair."

 

“When have I ever been fair, pet?”

 

A tremor of delight raced up Cole’s spine like lightning. “Well, you get that no means no. That’s enough for me.”

 

Megatron stood. “You need better standards, then, if that’s all it takes for fairness.”

 

The blond grinned and picked about his clothing pile. "Says the mech with a human pleasure-pet."

 

A whir. “Where did you hear that term?”

 

Cole shrugged. “Around?” When the scarlet gaze of the Decepticon warlord did not waver -as if it ever did- he swallowed. “Well… Blitzwing’s random side is _pretty_ chatty. If he knows anything about our arrangement, it's speculation." The only mech who knew for sure was Shockwave. It was either leave the spy in the dark about the bruises and welts or come clean about it. The antlered con was surprisingly accepting. His reasoning was that so long as Megatron was content, so to would he be.

 

Megatron’s growl was felt as much as it was heard. “You are not a pleasure-pet.”

 

“To _you_ , I guess not. But to anyone suspecting...” He paused, peeking up at Megatron through his lashes. “Well, why would anyone suspect _that_ , anyway?”

 

“The collar,” said Megatron simply.

 

Cole grasped it, the spikes digging into his palm with long-loved familiarity. “So, some pleasure-pets wear a collar like mine?”

 

“Yours is custom to you.” There was no one like Cole, and no basic collar would suit him. “But many pleasure- _bots_ wear something similar.”

 

Cole pouted, arms crossed. “I’m not a whore.”

 

Megatron smirked, optics half lit. “Is that so?”

 

“Fine. I’m your whore. Better?”

 

“Pet. You are my _pet_.”

 

“A'ight.” Uncrossing his arms to post a hand to each hip, the human asked quietly “May I continue with my book, master?”

 

“Of course.” With that, the mech left his human in the tank.

 

Cole waited for the door to slide down before he sat in his hammock with a huff of air. He plucked up his book and continued where he'd left off. Packing could wait a bit. He had a whole d-orn. He had an orn. Besides, this chapter was getting to the good part. Still… he had to choose what to wear. First impressions were everything with these guys.

 

/

 

The bridge transported them to a distant asteroid, floating harmlessly in orbit of an uninhabited planet. Blitzwing's cockpit -the only one ready to carry Cole in space for the short time they would drift in it!- was cold, but not unbearable. The short flight to the _Empirion_ was silent, the looming behemoth of a warship sending out one, black tendril.

 

Turns out, the tendril was an elevator into the hull of the ship. Its size was vast enough to hold the group of them with elbow room, but that was it. The second the elevator was sealed shut and depressurized, the triple-changer’s cockpit opened, and Cole was dizzily staring up at Megatron once more.

 

“How was your flight?”

 

“Scary as hell.” And cold as shit!

 

The silver mech chuckled softly, flattening his palm for him to stand in.

 

Standing tall in his master's palm, full hammock slung across his back, Cole felt he looked damn refined in his ‘LIKE A BOSS!' Minecraft creeper t-shirt. The booty shorts were, in his eyes, a power play. Those bastards were gonna see their lord and master holding a human in booty shorts and think ‘the human has a nice ass' and be confused for the rest of their lives about it.

 

At least, that’s what he told himself when he prepped himself for life on the _Empirion_. He tried not to show how nervous he indeed was. He wasn't the best at tough guy antics, but he'd do his best.

 

Megatron glanced down at him. “Nervous, pet?”

 

“Very." He crossed his arms with a frown. "Any advice to not shit myself, master?"

 

The Decepticon hummed, optics on Lugnut’s back kibble. “Forget your _humanity_ , and remember your _purpose_ .” The lights of the elevator flicked in a pattern that cast the group in hot purple and deep indigo time and again. “You are a loyal pet. Loyalty is rewarded. I would not have you here if you had no purpose.” His voice dropped to a gravelly rumble. “Anyone with _objections_ shall answer to me.”

 

“That helps a lot, actually.” He wanted to pet his master’s hand then, but he was already close to not being able to stand. “Anything else? Anyone?”

 

Blitzwing spoke up, Icy's voice a familiar echo from behind. "Aggression is expected. Hiss, if you must. It's what sparklings do too."

 

“I am tiny."

 

“As are sparklings.”

 

Shockwave’s faceless helm leaned into view from the right of Megatron’s shoulder-armor. “You would be amazed how small some of us are.”

 

“ _I’m_ made of meat.”

 

“Return cruelty in kind, boy.” He ducked back out of view. “Spark knows most of us do.”

 

Lugnut's voice broke loudly from the front. "We are here, my liege." The doors opened, and Lugnut stepped into the packed loading bay. His voice boomed in the space, but Cole did his best not to flinch. "His Eminence, our Lord, and master, Mighty Megatron!" He stepped out of the way and took a knee nearby.

 

The mass of mechs and femmes wasn't the pantheon of fear Cole anticipated. Everyone was either sharp and thin or bulky and thick. Still, they bowed in respect, even fear, when the doors opened, and Megatron stepped into view. Some stopped at one bended knee, some pressed their faceplates to the floor.

 

Cole, for his part, kept it together pretty well. He told himself over and over in his head that standing in Megatron’s servo was just fantastic for his core muscles. While his gait was smooth, he was still huge, and Cole felt every step. Anything to not look afraid. Gray gaze straight ahead, he braced himself just as he felt his master turn to face his army.

 

“Fellow Decepticons, your leader has returned to usher in a new age of prosperity. While my time trapped on that grim organic planet of Earth has stolen much-needed effort on my part, I am free once more to helm our take over once more. We leave that planet behind while keeping a small reminder of its impact upon our cause." Pausing to lift Cole a bit higher, he continued darkly. "The human is a trophy from Earth. No one but myself and Shockwave may handle him." Glancing to a rather pointy mech to his left, the warlord frowned. "Where is the control room tank?"

 

“To the left of the throne, as asked, sire.” He dipped at the hips in a half bow.

 

“Good. Decepticons, return to your duties. We have much to do." The Decepticon warlord turned his back and entered a second elevator. There was a moment of silence between the two of them that he broke quietly. "You did well, Cole."

 

Cole gave off an embarrassed chuckle. “Thanks, but I didn’t do anything.”

 

He grinned. “Precisely. Not a flinch or a start. Though, I am confused by your attire.”

 

“I dunno. You said the removal of plating was a vulnerability. I don't have plating, so the shorts were like, ‘look! I feel so safe I'm almost naked!' but it prolly got lost in translation."

 

The mech laughed a closed mouth grin that filled the room with rich sound. Taking a few, quick vents to calm himself, cleared his intakes and set his faceplate back to a neutral expression quickly enough. The elevator stopped smoothly, and the doors parted. "We've arrived."

 

The control room held a handful of mechs, each one behind a control panel, or conversing with someone about something. They had all turned and looked to the two of them. Those standing bowed, those sitting nodded. Against what looked like a half wall to the back sat, what Cole assumed, was the throne. It sat as tall as Megatron did when standing, its top crowned with spikes as sharp as blades. Beside it, on the left sat a platform shaped a lot like the tanks he lived in back on earth… but not exactly.

 

It looked like a round platform, maybe ten feet across with a trench as thick as his arm surrounding it. Inside the circle sat a few things that made the small space seem a little less boring. A small trundle with a thin mattress lay near to the back, next to a padded floor chair and a short stack of books. Never let it be said that his master didn't take care of his things! Still, where were the walls? Did they _forget_ the walls?

 

The silver hellion swiftly set Cole onto the platform. “Enjoy your stay, pet.” He quickly pressed a code into the panel by the tank.

 

“Thank you, master." Cole turned for the chair and paused as waving, flat teal walls rose from the trench around his tank. They grew in a rippling wave until they capped off at about ten feet high, encasing the young man in their light. "Ah. Nice."

 

Megatron’s faceplate remained passive as he addressed the human. “I shall have Shockwave collect you within the next joor.”

 

“Yes, master. I look forward to seeing you soon." He took a seat and opened his hammock to pick out the book he'd been reading before.

 

The hellion turned and left, the few parting to let him by.

 

Alone, but not lonely, the blond cracked open his book and was treated to two, uninterrupted hours of reading. While a slow reader, he made plenty of progress. _Cujo_ had nothing on him, he'd finished it in a week! He sat the book on the bed and bent over to look at the pile already in the tank. Plenty of Agatha Christie, a Goosebumps novella, and… oh, now _that_ seemed foreboding-

 

“Aw, hi there.”

 

A feminine voice startled him enough to knock over the pile and turn, eyes widening at the sound.

 

Before him was a femme -or he _guessed_ so by the voice- with stone-gray and lavender plating. “What a cute little human,” she cooed. “How old are you, tiny?”

 

Cole, for his part, hissed, showing his teeth as much as possible.

 

The femme pulled back, riled. “Rude.”

 

He scowled. “You’re damn right.”

 

Her grin was all knife-tips and venom. "I'm surprised our Lord took a trophy from that wretched mud ball."

 

“He picked the _best_. I’m his most loyal organic follower.” Cole crossed his arms, head held high.

 

“You’re his _only_ organic follower,” corrected the femme.

 

“Exactly why I’m the _best_. There can be only one.”

 

The femme stared, before giggling darkly. “I like you, tiny.”

 

“Good. One down, fifty to go.”

 

“Forty-six. With more on the way.”

 

“Oh boy.” Cole sat in his tank, suddenly regretting the booty shorts as cold metal met skin. “I’m Cole. Who’re you supposed to be?”

 

“Hoverbolt, pet.”

 

Cole growled best he could. “I am not _your_ pet. You can either call me human or Cole, but that’s it.”

 

Hoverbolt narrowed her slanted optics. “Or what?”

 

“Pet is lord Megatron’s word for me. No one else. It’s _his_ rule, not mine.”

 

“Aw, that’s cute. You think he likes you.”

 

Cole wanted to snap back at her _he does, you twat_ but he was already getting hot under the collar, so to speak. “You wouldn’t talk shit if he were here.”

 

“Fair enough.” The door opened behind her, and she stood to leave. “Later, tiny.”

 

Several cons headed in after her. The one that stood out the most was the hulking, red beast of a mech. A violet light protruded from either side of his head. His scowl was made deeper by his jutting, jagged jaw. The mech glanced the human's way, his faceplate unchanging.

 

Cole glared back at him and spat “Fuck you looking at? Keep walking!”

 

Big red let out a brief chuckle but walked away.

 

After that, Cole thought he was all ‘meaned-out,' and sat in the chair provided to him. Leaning back over the pile of books, he scooped up the one he'd seen earlier, _I’ll Be Gone in the Dark._ He may not have finished high school, but he could do just about anything he wanted to. Right now, all he wanted to do was read. Or, he would have, had the sensation of being watched not distracted him.

 

It was another skinny-pokey mech. Thin like Shockwave, but maybe half the height, and probably the ugliest shade of rusty-red this side of somewhere. He had a triangular head, with a set of forward-facing horns where audios would be. His brownish-gray faceplate was fixed in an almost permanent smirk.

 

“Yeah?” Cole drawled, giving the mech his most pointed stare.

 

“Howdy.”

 

“Who’re you?”

 

The mech pulled back his top lip component to reveal a pair of fangs. “Name’s Firetrap.”

 

“Uh-huh.” Cole’s eyes went back to his book. “Need something?”

 

“Nah, just admiring the view.”

 

“Window’s that way, slaghead." He nodded his head to the enormous window that wrapped around most of the ship's front.

 

The rust-colored mech’s smile slipped. “Just bein’ friendly, meat-bag.”

 

“Don’t care.”

 

“Y’should. I’m the best friend you could make in here.” His lip components peeled back over off-white fangs. Not the best threat display, really.

 

“Mm. I doubt that.”

 

Before Firetrap could conjure up an angry retort, Blitzwing entered from the elevator, Icy out for all to see. His head turned slowly to observe the massive control room. His optics landed on Cole. “Allo.” He approached the tank, a familiar faceplate in a sea of strangeness. “Lord Megatron has asked for you.” Pressing a few buttons on the tanks access panel, the walls were gone with a zap akin to static electricity.

 

“A'ight. Let’s get to it.”

 

Blitzwing lowered his servo, only for Firetrap to yap out “Didn’t Megatron say just him and Shifty could grab the meat-bag?”

 

Hothead emerged quickly enough, plucking Cole promptly from the tank. "Mind yourself, you pewter-plated play-plug!"

 

Cole snorted behind his hand. “Holy _shit_.”

 

Firetrap snarled up at Cole “Aw, shut up, you stupid monkey!”

 

“I’m an ape, moron.” Cole stuck out his tongue. “Is monkey all you got?”

 

“Oh, I’ll show you what I-”

 

The massive red mech from before turned his helm, expression unchanged. "Shut it, bruv.”

 

That was enough to get him away from the two, and he was now shouting at the far bigger mech. “You wanna go, Slapper? You really wanna-”

 

Blitzwing stepped out of the room, the rear door shutting with a hiss and click. Random emerged, grinning as ever. “Human! It’s been ages! How’s the wife and kids?”

 

“Two hours, Blitzwing. It’s been maybe two hours.” He leaned back into Blitzwing’s servo. “Good to see some familiar faceplates.”

 

Icy spun out, and they proceeded down the dark hallway. “Have you managed to make a good impression anywhere?”

 

“Hoverbolt’s cool, that big red guy left me alone, but Firetrap’s a dick. I got some odd looks, but nothing weird.”

 

“Curious. Slapper is not fond of many.”

 

“Slapper’s the big red one?”

 

“Ya. What happened?”

 

Cole smiled sheepishly and explained what occurred.

 

Random broke free with a cackle that could wake the dead. “Now _that’s_ a first impression!" Taking a left, another left, and right, they arrived at a tall, double-doored room. Icy emerged and bent to a knee to set Cole down. "This is Lord Megatron's chamber. He has requested that I leave you here and that you knock once I'm out of sight of you." A light smirk played across his mouth. "Welcome aboard, blondie." Taking a step back, he went to leave.

 

“Wait, Megatron said he’d send Shockwave to get me. Where-”

 

“He had more on his servos than he anticipated, and was caught up with his duties as second in command.”

 

“Second in… well, give him my congratulations, then!”

 

He nodded, smirk fading. "Don't forget to knock." The triple-changer strode out of the hall and was out of sight in moments.

 

Alone, in a vast hall, Cole took a calming breath, and knocked, hard.

 

The doors parted, and a smoky voice called out from the dark room. “Come in, pet.”

 

He obliged, on the razor’s edge of giddiness and nervousness. Stepping cautiously in the dark, the doors slid shut behind him.

 

Not a moment later, something grabbed his collar and slammed him into the shut doors. Breath, warmed by inner mechanisms, brushed the shell of his ear.

 

“You really thought those shorts were a smart idea, didn’t you?” Megatron purred dangerously. A black servo trailed down to the fly of said shorts, snapping the button clean off with a pinch.

 

Cole’s hands roamed the shrunken-mechs backstruts and tweaked the condensed propeller. “Mm, you liked it in the elevator.” He craned his head back to allow better access to his throat. A hot glossa glided over the sensitive flesh. Denta scraped his jawline.

 

“You _distracted_ me in front of my soldiers, pet.” The shorts were pulled down, Cole shuffling his feet to kick them away. “You know better, don’t you?”

 

The young man moaned. “M-master, I’m so sorry-” A servo cupping his hardness drew a sharp gasp, and he fell silent.

 

Megatron massaged with his one servo and gripped Cole's hair with the other. "You don't _seem_ sorry to me, pet.” Gently his denta closed around the human’s earlobe. A soft bite, a sharp suck, and he let go to breathe out, “Prove you’re sorry.”

 

Cole spread himself and lifted a leg. “ _Please_.”

 

The mech tugged the briefs down painfully slow. “Please what?”

 

Cole whined, his erection free and stiff at his master’s gravelly command. “Please, master. Fuck me.”

 

Slipping a servo beneath Cole’s entrance, he pressed a digit inside of the wet, pulsing heat. Slow circles, soft twitches. He loved riling the blond up! His other servo slid under Cole’s knee and lifted him up, still working on his hole. They’d had plenty of romps and games, but no prep for Cole wasn’t any fun for either one of them. “Tell me what you need,” he growled, the arm hooking Cole’s knee sliding back to squeeze a firm cheek.

 

“Ah! Fuck!" gray eyes locked on his master's bright, ruby-red optics. They smoldered like lava from a building volcano. "Oh, god, master. Please! Fuck me into a wall! I need you so bad!" His cock twitched on the final word, pre leaking from the tip.

 

The hellions' codpiece slid open, revealing his thick, lubricated plug. Withdrawing his digit from Cole’s begging hole, he lined their bodies up and just barely pressed into his human. “Prove yourself, pet.”

 

Cole didn't need to be told twice. He pressed himself down and took most of the plug in one go. He never got it all on the first try, but it was always worth it to keep pushing to that goal. Cole whined and grasped at his master's cannon to give himself leverage. "Christ, you're huge."

 

Megatron fisted Cole’s platinum blond waves and forced his head back. “Good boy.” He peppered Cole’s jawline with light kisses and slowly began to piston his hips.

 

It was a moment later that Cole cried out “Ah, shit! Carbon!”

 

The mech halted and held Cole's head in one servo. "Too fast?”

 

“No, my leg cramped up.” He peeked through his damp bangs, a cross of helplessness and frustration. “Kinda holding myself up on one, here.”

 

“Ah. One moment.” A little juggling and a lot of patience led to Cole with his knees over each of Megatron’s elbows. “Better?”

 

“Much better, master.” He bucked slightly, getting a grunt from the mech inside him.

 

He didn’t need further go ahead. Servos planted against the door, Megatron increased his pace just a bit, the sensation of an organic around his plug never ceasing to be incredible.

 

Cole wrapped his arms around his helm, pants melting into moans. The two rarely lasted long just going at it like this, but nothing was wrong with a quickie. He threw back his head, chanting ‘yes’ and ‘master’ when he could remember to make words.

 

It wasn't long before the mechs' pace picked up. His rhythm thumped into Cole, and Cole pounded into the door causing a thump-thump-thump to ring about the room.

 

“Cole,” the mech growled out the name, pressing his helm to Cole’s forehead. “Almost th-ere, pet?”

 

“Unf- yes!” Finally reaching down to his hard-on, Cole began to tug at himself in time with his master’s thrusts. “Please please _please_ -”

 

“Go-oo-d” His speech synthesizer _always_ glitched when he was close. He needn't give any other warning. Pressing his faceplate into the fabric of Cole’s shirt, he let out a snarl with his overload.

 

The human wasn’t far behind, hot lubricant pumping into him as hot cum drizzled out and onto his hand. God, nothing beat a punishment-fuck! He knew the shorts were a smart move.

 

Speaking of movement.

 

Megatron panted as he slowly untangled himself from his human. Unhurried as always, he pulled himself out easily. He didn’t _quite_ set Cole down, more adjusting him to lay against his chassis.

 

Cole wiped his hand off on his shirt, going soft after the fun ended. Time for a cool-down, no need for much in the way of aftercare.

 

Megatron muttered softly into Cole’s ear. “Would you actually like to see where we’ll be staying?”

 

Cole chuckled, cheek to silver audio. "Sounds nice. You need to shift for that?"

 

“Yes, but,” He curled an arm behind the young man. “It can wait a moment. Do you need your clothing back?”

 

“Nah. The shirt’s long. I’m good.” It covered him well enough, at least. Besides, he didn’t need the shorts now. Still, no point in just leaving them on the floor. “I think I’m good to stand if you wanna shift.”

 

The mech released Cole and stepped back a few, long strides. There was a click, a deep thrumming hum, and Megatron was quickly back to his average size. "Much better." He clapped his servos twice and up came the lights.

 

Cole blinked in the brightness. The room was vast, about half that of the control room. Not sparse to be sure, considering the weaponry lining the right wall. The left wall had a single door that lead who knew where, and in the center, pressed against the far wall, was a large berth.

 

Megatron’s servo opened to Cole, and he stepped into it, eyes bright, clothes wadded up under one arm.

 

“You’ll find your tank is more than a circle with a hammock, my pet.” Setting his human onto the flooring of the tank, he sat on the berth, brows up.

 

The tank was a rectangle with rounded corners, roughly the size of Megatron’s berth, and level with it at ten feet off the floor. Inside sat a bookcase, already with some shelves stocked. Near to it was a wide beanbag, a high-backed armchair across from that. A wet-bar with a microwave was set up adjacent to an opaque partition on the opposite side.

 

“Master, this is...” He trailed off as he was set down, feeling carpeting under his bare feet. He peeked around the partition, and found a soaking tub, a standing shower, a washer and dryer combo, and… “Wait, master, what’s this thing?” He pointed at the circular, stainless steel thing. It seemed at a glance to be a trash can with a padded seat around it, but he didn’t see where the bottom went to.

 

“Waste receptacle.” He smiled softly. “ _Anything_ you place into it will be disintegrated in seconds.”

 

“Oh… okay, good." He felt familiar cramping, and decided now was a good time to test this thing. "Gimme a klik." Not much later, Cole popped his blond head back around the partition and smiled meekly.

 

“Step on the lever by the sink.”

 

He did. A bright green light glowed from within, bright as a flashbulb going off. The cylinder made a soft sizzling noise and went quiet. A cursory glance and the receptacle was empty. " _Wow_.”

 

The hellion chuckled from where he sat on his berth. “Keep looking.”

 

Cole turned, eyes finally landing on the ‘bedroom.' There sat a California king bed on a storage platform. To the right was a nightstand, to the left, a wooden chest with a latch. Cole blinked back tears and turned to Megatron. "This is too much."

 

The mech shuttered his optics and reached for the young man. Blunt digits met the organic warmth of a human body. "Oh, I wanted to do more."

 

Cole scrubbed a palm at an eye. “I’d faint!”

 

A smoky chuckle. "Precisely. Now then." He grinned. "Get yourself cleaned up, have a rest, stretch out." He stood, and engaged the ion barrier around the tank with a simple button press. "I'll be seeing you soon enough. Until then," He gave the human a sly wink and headed for the doors.

 

“Bye, master. I’ll see you soon!” The young man gave a wave, beaming. The moment Megatron was gone, he peeled the shirt off and headed for the shower. The luxury of hot water and fresh soap were not lost on him, nor the comfort of sprawling out on a large, memory foam mattress. Cole was out like a light by the time his head hit the pillow.

 

**X**

  
_**Last things last**_  
 _**By the grace of the fire and the flames**_  
 _**You're the face of the future, the blood in my veins, oh ooh**_  
 _**The blood in my veins, oh ooh**_  
 _**But they never did, ever lived, ebbing and flowing**_  
 _**Inhibited, limited**_  
 _**Till it broke open and rained down**_  
 _**And rained down, like...**_  
  
_**Pain!**_  
 _**You made me a, you made me a believer, believer**_  
 _**Pain!**_  
 _**You break me down, you build me up, believer, believer**_  
 _**Pain!**_  
 _**Oh let the bullets fly, oh let them rain**_  
 _**My life, my love, my drive, it came from...**_  
 _**Pain!**_  
 _**You made me a, you made me a believer, believer**_

 


	2. Year 2: High Speed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When gravity fails, the human is the only option left.

**Year Two: High Speed**

 

**x**

 

**_Can anybody fly this thing_ **  
**_Before my head explodes_ **  
**_Or my head starts to ring_ **

**_We've been living life_ **  
**_Inside a bubble_ **  
**_We've been living life_ **  
**_Inside a bubble_ **

**_Confidence in you_ **  
**_Is confidence in me_ **  
**_Is confidence in high speed_ **

**x**

 

While it took time for Cole to adjust to life aboard the _Empirion_ , he managed. Books offered a distraction, and he had plenty to pick from. He got used to using the waste-receptacle as a toilet, but he still flinched when the light went off. Instinct told him not to look at it, but it was a pretty color. When Shockwave had time, he’d usually hang out with him and watch what mechs were up to via the security cameras. 

 

Then, about a year after being on board the vessel, gravity decided to just stop existing for a while.

 

Turns out that everything in the tank was magnetized to the floor.

 

Save for Cole’s books.

 

 _And_ the beanbag.

 

...and _Cole_.

 

He discovered this when he awoke to find himself drifting out of the tank. Along with his full-sized master, who did not seem pleased to be floating in mid-air.

 

Cole blinked, no longer sure which way was up. “Uh… is this something that happens often?”

 

The mech hummed lowly. “Not commonly.”

 

“Any idea what’s up?” Cole asked as he gently kicked a book out of his line of sight.

 

“The gravity failed. Shockwave is investigating as we speak." Megatron frowned. "I suppose you're not interested in one of our games while the gravity is out, eh?" It would pass the time, and interfacing in a zero-gravity environment was definitely something that'd at least lead to a funny story.

 

The human was now spinning slowly in the air, arms crossed. “No thanks.” If the gravity kicked back on while he was this far from the floor, let alone while fucking someone who weighed half a ton even when mass-displaced, well… Cole didn’t like pancakes.

 

The Decepticon shrugged. He received a ping internally from Shockwave's frequency.

 

“ _What is it, Shockwave?”_

 

“ _Oh mighty one, I have made a troubling mistake.”_

 

Idly grasping Cole in one servo to keep him from drifting too much further away, he frowned. _“What’s happened?”_

 

“ _I was unable to gain access to the gravity fuses via the main floor. The attempt led to my limbs going to full capacity and still being unable to reach it."_

 

Megatron let Cole free closer to his helm, giving him a disdainful look before gesturing at Han audio with a digit.

 

The human nodded and attempted to breaststroke in the air. It was a valiant effort.

 

“ _What of the vent connection?”_

 

“ _That is where the true problem lies.”_ Shockwave seemed almost embarrassed. _“While reaching into the vent, my servo became… stuck.”_

 

“ _Stuck.”_

 

“ _Yes, Lord Megatron. I have effectively trapped myself."_

 

Alright. e had to see himself. Once more grasping Cole in one servo, Megatron pushed off the edge of the berth with his pedes and bumped the door open function with his knee plate. "Shockwave has something to show us."

 

“Us?” Had he _finally_ figured out why he couldn't find the ace in three-card Monte?

 

“Yes. Should be quite entertaining.” The two were drifting down the hall to the engine room, kicking here and there to stabilize and steer.

 

Among the unhappy group of drifting Decepticons sat an even unhappier Shockwave. His right servo rested in his lap, but his left was extended and deep inside the ventilation shaft.

 

Cole’s lips parted, brows almost to his hairline. He was set loose, pushing off on his master’s palm to drift closer to Shockwave’s helm. “Yikes.”

 

The con nodded. “Indeed. I seem to have made the situation worse.” Rapping his free claws on his thigh plating, he continued, helm turned to Megatron. “My liege, I was halfway through the vent and to the core, when I became stuck on something. No amount of lengthening my arm or rattling it about can get it loose.”

 

The hellion grunted. “Send someone small enough to fit by into the vent.”

 

“There _is_ no one small enough to fit.”

 

He answered with a growl. “Then send someone into the chamber below and have them replace the fuse!”

 

“I have the only fuse in my servo, my liege!" Shockwave's antlers tilted backward slightly. "If I detach the servo, I will lose the fuse. If it breaks, we're trapped like this for another few orns."

 

Several aggravated groans sounded through the room.

 

Cole, for his part, spoke up from his place hovering around Shockwave’s helm. “I’m small enough.”

 

Several sets of red optics fixed upon the human.

 

Cole didn’t flinch. He kept his eyes locked on Megatron. “Master. I’m small and flexible enough to at least try to get past Shockwave’s stuck servo. If someone instructs me how to install the fuse, like, step by step-”

 

“What a joke!” yapped some slight, slate-blue mech hovering near the back wall.

 

Blitzwing ‘accidentally’ kicked said mech in the faceplate.

 

The silver hellion hummed in thought, before taking the human into his servo. “It’s a simple operation for our kind, but yourself? I doubt it.”

 

“Master, let me try. Please.”

 

His optics burned in the low light of the room. “Fail me, and you will regret it.”

 

Cole swallowed. “Understood, master.”

 

“Very well.” Pushing off the floor, Megatron hovered to the hall, kicking now and again to steer himself. “Tight fit aside, you’re going to need a bit of help.” He headed to the bar, taking his sweet time getting behind it.

 

“Master?”

 

Megatron didn't halt his movements but tilted his head slightly.

 

“If I may, there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

 

“What is it?" The mech clasped a rung and swung himself before the shelves before grabbing a cheap barrel of oil that hadn't floated away.

 

“Grease me up, I’m going in.”

 

“Dirty thoughts at times like this.” He opened the barrel as dark, charcoal fluid crept out. “I am not surprised.”

 

Wasting no time, Cole stripped to his briefs and grasped at the viscous oil, slathering himself in it. "Ew. You drink this?" he muttered under his breath.

 

“This swill is the last thing I want in my tank.”

 

The blond bit back the urge to say ‘eat me,' as his pale skin was coated fully. "I'd go _au naturel_ , but I don’t think anyone would appreciate seeing my penis.” Somersaulting in the air, he chuckled. “Well, maybe one.”

 

Not a moment later, the two were back in the control room.

 

Let loose into the air, Cole drifted closer to the stuck mech’s blank faceplate. “A’ight, what am I doing?”

 

Shockwave’s solo optic glowed under the purple emergency lights. “There is a fuse that must be replaced. The old one should be easy to spot.”

 

“And the new one?”

 

“In my stuck servo.”

 

“A'ight.” Cole hovered by Shockwave’s helm, before creeping his way to the entry of the vent. “Pardon the mess.” Shimmying his way around the antlered cons shoulder-armor, the human was inside with room to spare. “Inwards and upwards.” Clasping at the rungs that made up Shockwave’s arm, Cole made quick work of the vent, having to half army-crawl and half inchworm his way along.

 

Shockwave’s voice carried through the vents like a church bell. “You’re near the end of me.”

 

“Got it!” He cried back. The metal was cold against his back, squeaking here and there as oil rubbed off and left sticky trails behind. Shockwave’s servo came into clear view. “There you are!” Pulling himself the last few feet he needed, Cole slid around the appendage and grasped a claw. In the antlered cons claws, glowing like a beacon, was a neon-pink fuse the size of a soda can. “I’ve got the fuse!”

 

“Proceed to the end of the vent. You’ll see a tall pillar in the center of the room at the end.” Releasing the fuse, the mech pointed with a claw. “To the left and upwards, among other fuses, you’ll find the dead one.”

 

“Gotcha.” Cole hugged the claw, feeling the small twitch it gave when he did. “I can do it from here! Be back in a klick!” Pushing off, the human floated away, the sound of Shockwave detaching his servo a dull clack and hiss behind him. He pushed off the servo and sailed down the vent. “Lube man, away!”

 

The end came with a sudden feeling of weightlessness that was startling after clanging about the vent. The human drifted along, reaching his free hand for the high pillar in the giant, thrumming tube. The leading part branched off into the ceiling like a broken whisk, and the bottom lead down to a floor that seemed to end with a room far below. The walls of the tube ended maybe a hundred feet before the floor.

 

Fuse in hand, Cole dug his free fingers under the dead fuse and tugged. And tugged. And… _tugged_.

 

“Fuck me!” Stuffing the fuse in his briefs and wrapping both hands about the dead fuse, Cole planted both feet to the pillar and wrenched back with all of his might. “C’mon, you lil shit!” Swearing at the fuse seemed to do the trick, as it came loose, sending the human away into the wall with a thud.

 

“Okay, got the old fuse out!" He cried to the vent. "I'm putting the new one in, so hang tight!" He didn't wait for a reply and kicked his way toward the set of fuses. "Here we go!" Quickly pulling the fuse out of his briefs, Cole snapped it into place and pushed it hard enough to fit it in. It lit with an intensity that made his eyes sting, and-

 

The gravity kicked on with a vengeance.

 

Cole, having nothing to hold onto, fell with abandon into the depths of the engine room below. His scream carried back up the shaft and was cut short by his landing.

 

But he did not die. In fact, he felt no pain and bounced on something that gave into his weight with a soft ‘plaff’ and, strangely, a spray of white beads.

 

Looking up from his landing pad -a ruined beanbag chair- Cole met the familiar, scarlet gaze of his master.

 

Megatron stared for a moment before he gave him a half-smile. "Well done, pet."

 

“Thank you, master.” Looking about himself, he grinned. “But I think I killed the beanbag.”

 

The mech lifted his brows slightly. “Better it than you.”

 

A sharp shattering of glass resounded from behind Cole, and the two of them looked to see the source. The old fuse had fallen and shattered, leaving a cloud of pastel pink in its wake.

 

“Oh shit.”

 

“Mm.” The mech turned on a pede, and back towards the elevator.

 

“Are we just gonna leave it there?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Shrugging, the young man sank into the beanbag. “Gonna have to toss this. I don’t think it’ll fit in the waste-receptacle.”

 

“Fair assessment.” Trading servos to hold the blond, Megatron walked on until he found a trash chute. The beanbag was gone down the tubes in seconds, leaving a thin trail of Styrofoam beads behind. That out of the way, and Cole switched back into his left servo, he proceeded to the elevator.

 

“Master, I have a question.”

 

A nod to continue as the doors slid shut.

 

“You always want me in your left hand. Is it because your cannon’s on your right?”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“Thought so! That or you were a lefty." Cole ruffled his hair and made a face. "Aw, man. Got it in my hair." His hand came away dark and shiny. Ew.

 

They ended up back in Megatrons' chamber not much later.

 

Settled on his feet in the tank, the human made a beeline for the bathroom. "Blah. This sucks. Glad the gravity's back, but I don't wanna do that again." Cole pulled the briefs down, his real skin color a stark contrast to what the oil had done.

 

A familiar, deep thrum and Megatron stood at a quarter of his average size. Standing at the edge of the berth to activate the barrier for the tank, he crouched and jumped the eight-foot ion wall with ease. "Hygiene aside, your scent seems to go well with oil." Under the clinging scent of bar soap and shampoo, Cole's natural, human scent was something he'd grown to savor. Something like mineral salt, and the books he loved to read.

 

He chuckled, shooting a flirtatious look the mech’s way as they headed to the shower. “I thought you said you didn’t like this stuff?”

 

Megatron purred against the nape of his neck, pulling him to him with insistence. “Oh, I might make an exception, just this once.” Slowly, his jaws opened to place his denta across Cole’s neck. His languid glossa slid out to glide against the column of Cole’s throat, tasting his pulse as it danced under the skin.

 

What _could_ have been an act of seduction turned sour quickly as Megatron withdrew. Cole turned in time to see his master pulling the most unimpressed face he had ever seen… glossa still sticking out slightly. The mech made a sound of disgust.

 

Cole laughed brightly, a strident sound in the small space of the shower. “Oh my god that face!” He held his stomach as Megatron’s optics narrowed. “Sorry, master! I guess I d-don’t improve the vintage!”

 

The mech quickly pulled in his glossa, looking all the worse for it. “Ugh. How do they drink that?”

 

“I didn’t think you’d lick me! I’ve been crawling around a vent!”

 

The mech blinked. “ _That_ explains the grit.”

 

Cole fell into another burst of giggles. “Oh, man. I gotta get cleaned up. Wanna join me?”

 

Megatron grinned, optics aflame. Seduction, back on track. “Since you insist.”

 

Never let it be said that shower sex is easy. Especially when one of the two partners is made of metal.

 

Still, Cole managed to get the oil out of his hair, and Megatron managed to get the taste of cheap oil out of his mouth.

 

Ruffling a soft towel against his hair, Cole felt fresh as a daisy. He wrapped it about his waist, tucking in a corner to hold it up. He wiped a place clear on the mirror to get a better look at himself. He felt clean, but he wanted to be sure.

 

Silver and crimson approached from behind, shortly followed by slow tugging on his towel. He pressed back against the hellion he knew and chuckled. "Round two already, master?" The momentum they had going was quickly cut off when Cole's stomach let out an angry growl. "Can I eat first?"

 

The mech blinked. “You haven’t had fuel today?”

 

“I kinda woke up drifting around your helm, so, no.”

 

Megatron shrugged and made his way out of the bathroom before finding a seat in the armchair. "See to it."

 

“Round two after breakfast, promise!" Under the kitchenette, Cole dug out an MRE stuffed french toast and a Gatorade before he took a seat on the edge of the bed. He took a bite, a swig, and cleared his throat. "Okay. So, did you have a scene in mind? Or just have another quick one?"

 

“A scene.” His ruby-red optics darkened. “After all, you’re the reason that beanbag exploded… and you left broken glass to clean up, didn’t you?” His last words were said at a gravelly drawl.

 

Cole fidgeted. “Better it than me… you know,” he started cautiously. “It’s fine to have a punishment-scene, but, you don’t need a reason to tie me up, you know?”

 

The mech lifted a brow.

 

“I like being tied up and hit, but we don’t have to, like, _look_ for a reason to do it?” He took another few bites of his breakfast, eyes to the floor. “Just a suggestion.”

 

Megatron stared for a moment. He didn’t move or say anything, only watched.

 

The young man sighed. “I said the wrong thing, didn’t I, mas-”

 

“You’re right.” Megatron stood and took a seat beside Cole on the bed. “We don’t need a reason. No need to justify what games we play.”

 

“As long as we have fun!”

 

“Agreed, yet...” He placed a servo to Cole's platinum waves, curling blunt digits into them. “Some things can be hard to justify. Especially to ones who wouldn’t understand.” He trailed the servo to lay on Cole’s back.

 

“Uptight bastards, what do they know, anyway?” Polishing off his meal with a swig of the bottle, Cole gave his master his best smile.

 

Megatron found himself smiling back.

 

“So, anyway,” The young man peaked at his master through his lashes. “How about a change of scenery?”

 

/

 

A hogtied human was indeed a treat. A fun, little toy that lay practically gift-wrapped for him to enjoy. Pushing Cole's head to the side with the leather crop, he hummed. "Not ideal, but not unwanted." His free servo grasped a fistful of Cole's blond waves, relishing in their softness before wrenching his head back. "Oh, how I wish you could see what I have planned for you."

 

Cole whined and twisted himself away, falling to one side on the bed. Bound, gagged, _and_ blindfolded? Terrifying and awesome. He had the hard-on to prove it. The gag made his jaw ache something fierce, truth be told.

 

The loud, slow clicking noise drew Megatron from the scene they were having, brows lowered inattention. Cole was making good use of the clicker, and it was his job to learn why.

 

He smoothed a black servo against the human’s hair before undoing the clasp of the ball-gag. It fell into the servo he held under Cole’s chin with a thud and a bounce. “What is it?”

 

Cole inhaled deeper than his lungs knew to hold and gulped. "I-I-I can't-" he gasped again, pushing into the cool servo of his master. "Master, the gag. I can't breathe with it. I'm sorry."

 

A low hum and the gag was set aside. "Fair enough. Do you need a cycle to breathe?"

 

“N-no, master. I can keep going, I just can’t do the ball gag.”

 

Megatron hummed, dragging a blunt servo down Cole’s exposed back. “I have something in mind.” Flicking the lid of the toy box open with a thumb, the hellion spied the hard, silicone bit he’d selected. Designed to muffle, but not smother. Excellent for biting down and taking the damage of teeth. He purred, servo dragging back across the human’s back. “Open your mouth, pet.”

 

The human did so, obedient and eager as ever. The bit fit into his mouth snugly, and his white teeth stood out against the vibrant red of the silicone. Fastening it behind the human's head, he made sure that the blond's hair wasn't pinched. Hair pulling was terrific, but not getting it tangled in equipment.

 

Cole drooled around the bit and gave his muffled thanks before wriggling his ass in the air. Eager, as always.

 

“Good boy~” the mech purred, before taking up the crop again. “But, not good enough.” He brought the crop down upon Cole’s pale skin with a resounding repertoire of cracks again and again. Red welts rose with Cole’s moans and muffled screams.

 

Megatron wanted to hurt something. Cole was dying to oblige. To pit with a reason why.

 

/

 

Two showers in a day was a _bit_ much, but Cole could manage that. It helped get the welts to go down, at least. He wasn’t too shocked to find Megatron still in his mass-displaced form, sitting on the bed and just… waiting.

 

“You could have come with if you wanted to.” The human said with a shrug.

 

The mech smirked. “Space never hurts.”

 

“Unless you’re the guy who likes to cuddle.”

 

Megatron lifted a brow. “A human thing, I suppose.”

 

“Maybe, but...” Heading to one side of the bed, he pulled out a clean shirt and boxers. He decided that he didn’t want pants for the moment. “You only seem interested in _anything_ physical if it’s during or after sex.”

 

The mech frowned, humming. “Is there an issue with that?”

 

“Uh- well, I'd like a hug now and then, you know? Humans are huggy." A scary thought hit Cole, and he turned to stare at his master. "You _know_ what a hug is, don’t you?”

 

He chuckled at Cole’s horrified expression. Such a dramatic little thing. “I’ve seen it done, but have never done it.”

 

“Yeah, I'm fixing that." He paused. "I mean if you let me."

 

Megatron stood from the bed as Cole made his way towards him.

 

“Okay, step one. Hug.”

 

“That’s the only step?” he chided.

 

“Well, uh-” Cole wrapped his arms around the mech best he could, just able to press himself into the cool armor and grip almost fully around his chassis. “Okay, copy me.”

 

“You’re shorter than myself. How am I supposed to copy you?”

 

“Well, not-” The young man stopped, and lifted his head to prop his chin onto the mechs’ Decepticon symbol. “Jerk.”

 

His chuckle rumbled the human's chest, and he gently wrapped his pet into a somewhat awkward hug. "How is that?"

 

“Good effort, but you can hug tighter.”

 

“I could crush you.”

 

“Just… just apply pressure, and I'll let you know when to stop."

 

“Mm… fine.”

 

Cole moved to press his cheek to the cons’ chest plate, listening to the powerful thrumming of his spark. “Okay, a little more, and… there we go.” He grinned. “Not hard, see?”

 

“Strange.” Megatron found himself unsure of what to do with his servos. “It’s not _unpleasant_ , but it’s not what I know.”

 

“Yeah, I get that." Cole made to pull away but was held firm.

 

“I didn’t say to stop, pet.”

 

Giggling softly to himself, Cole rubbed his hands against the parts of his master he could reach. “So… think I can get one these now and then?”

 

Megatron couldn’t tell whether or not he liked this, but he’d be willing to try it again if it kept his pet happy. “Of course.”

 

x

 

_**Can anybody stop this thing** _

_**Before my head explodes** _

_**Or my head starts to ring** _

_**We've been living life** _

_**Inside a bubble** _

_**We've been living life** _

_**Inside a bubble** _

_**Confidence in you** _

_**Is confidence in me** _

_**Is confidence in high speed** _

_**High speed** _

_**High speed** _

_**High speed you on** _

_**High speed you on** _

_**High speed you on** _

_**High speed you on** _

 

x

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: I'm looking at a chapter every other Saturday schedule for this thing.


	3. Year 4: Stripped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A temporary switch to scratch a nasty itch.

**x**

 

_**Come with me** _

_**Into the trees** _

_**We´ll lay on the grass** _

_**And let the hours pass** _

_**Take my hand** _

_**Come back to the land** _

_**Let´s get away** _

_**Just for one day** _

 

**x**

 

It was a hunger that drove him, an itch that couldn’t be scratched by a roll in the hay with Cole.

 

This was worse.

 

It went beyond the confines of touch starvation. This was a dull, deep ache that he couldn’t itch enough.

 

He needed _pain_.

 

A rare occurrence indeed, a thing once satisfied by a battle, be it one on one or one on ten. Megatron needed war. He needed impacts against his frame, scratches in paint, dents, and dings brought on by a fight. He needed to feel it.

 

Practice drones were walking fodder, not a worthy fight. None would rise to the task of sparring, for fear of being offlined.

 

The mech was stuck. Megatron had millions of years practicing the facade of cold indifference, yet his soldiers parted like the red sea at his passing. Once back in his chamber, he'd hoped for some improvement in his mood. None came. Not even the bright smile of his dear pet could calm him in this state.

 

“Hello, master.” Cole’s voice seemed incredibly loud in the closed space. It usually wasn’t, just a light noise that felt like a soft buffing cloth in its gentleness.

 

The mech’s servos twitched, but he managed a nod and a grunt in greeting.

 

Cole’s smile softened, fading. “You okay?”

 

“Mm.” He sat at his work desk. Perhaps tinkering with that half-completed address to the scattered Decepticon forces would distract him from the hum of his circuitry.

 

Cole nodded and continued with his meal in peace. His master had his fair share of off days, and it was only natural for him to shut up and behave. If Megatron was reduced to hums and grunts, he wasn't going to try to pry for more. Prodding at the remains of his MRE, he had to wonder why Latvia had all the best entrees.

 

For a while, the only noise being either Megatron pecking about his datapad, or Cole cleaning up his dinner.

 

Tossing his trash into the waste-bin, the young man cracked his neck and cut across the rug over to his bookshelf. Having a seat in the beanbag replacement from two years prior, he settled into it with a dog-eared copy of _The Screwtape Letters._

 

So tightly wound was Megatron that he could hear his human as if he were inside of him. His breath a soft pattern that went with his pulse. The scratching of bare feet on the carpet. A body made of meat sinking into a pile of fabric and memory foam chunks. He could even hear the creak of the book's spine as it opened, the rustle of yellowed pages-

 

Megatron tossed the datapad to the side and stood, the stool he sat upon toppling backwards onto the floor with a sharp clang.

 

Cole jumped at the sudden noise and looked towards the mech now standing over the desk. Gray eyes were wide with nothing but worry. “Master, are… you sure you’re okay?”

 

Clenching the desk, he ground his dental-plates in frustration. “I’m going slightly mad.”

 

The human fidgeted slightly. “Do you need to hurt something?”

 

“Quite the opposite, if you could believe it.” The mech hunched, feeling his circuitry buzz from the lack of pain he knew and craved. “Human, I crave war and destruction, but I can’t have that as we are now.” Shuttering his optics, he sighed. “The practice drones have no bite to them. None will dare step up to the task of sparring. As little as I want to admit it, I _need_ to feel pain.”

 

The sadness Cole expressed was soon replaced with a flash of thought and the formation of an idea. “Master, uh… forgive me if I overstep.”

 

“ _Speak_ ,” he said with a growl.

 

“Well, if you _need_ to feel pain to calm down, I mean… gimme the right tools, and I'll knock the shit out of you?" The blond shrugged, face a mask of concern.

 

The mech turned to look at him, then chuckled. “You’re serious.”

 

“Very. If I can do _something_ for you, let me know.”

 

Smirking, the Decepticon regarded his pet coolly. “This isn’t a scene for us to act in, Cole. This is… something else.”

 

“If we _made_ it into a scene, it might help? You could get off and have your pain issues dealt with?”

 

Crossing his arms, he leveled Cole with his gaze. “Pet.”

 

“Master.” The blond stood, setting his book behind him.

 

“Tell me; how far are you willing to go for me?”

 

“However far you need.”

 

He frowned. “No games for the moment. I want a real answer.”

 

“Ah, okay. Uh...” Scratching his neck under the collar, he mulled his limits over in his mind. “Well… nothing that’d _kill_ you and no taking off limbs or breaking glass. Also, no gags. My hearing's not as sharp as yours, so a clicker is out."

 

Quite reasonable. “Anything else?”

 

Cole smiled sheepishly. “Well, can I keep the collar on?”

 

The mech chuckled, uncrossing his arms. A familiar thrumming and the mass-displaced mech launched himself into the tank. He strode past Cole and towards the bed. "Of course." Megatron reached underneath and pulled out a drawer to reveal a silver, metal box. Popping the lid open with his thumb, he beckoned Cole over with his free servo. "Come see. All toys I haven't been able to try out on you."

 

The human blinked down at the exciting assortment. "Well, you know what you like! I just hope I can provide it. Think these'll work for you?"

 

“I’m willing to try.”

 

Turning his gaze back to Megatron, Cole beamed. “So, my lord, what do you need?”

 

/

 

The clawed gloves felt weird, but they clung perfectly to Cole’s skin as if crafted just for him. Knowing his master, they very well may be custom! Not a fan of the color, but no need to complain. He _did_ look good in cobalt.

 

Still, the matter at hand; the mech on his bed. Flipped onto his abdomen, legs spread with a metal bar and servos bound with inactive stasis cuffs, lay a scowling Megatron.

 

Fun!

 

“Well now, isn’t this a shock.” Cole traced a claw across a pede, earning a twitch. “Not one to spread your legs often, eh?” He gave the leg spreaders a soft punch. They gave him a great view of where Megatrons’ plug and port were, hidden as they were.

 

Megatron seethed outwardly, but his optics were hungry. They'd barely started, and he loved it already. "You truly believe you have the upper hand?"

 

Cole smirked down at him. "I know I do," he cooed, before gently pressing one of his newly-clawed fingertips to the mech's back. A feather-light scratch peeled away a delicate curl of paint. "Oh, that's sad." The human lay both hands on Megatrons' backplate and dug in his claws. It was amazing just how strong they were, how wonderfully sharp! A quick rake left a set of deep scratches and drew a loud hiss from the Decepticon. "Aw, didn't hurt, did it?" Cole, not getting a reply, dug again until he heard a grunt of pain. "Did it?"

 

Megatron, for his part, lurched and made a lunge with his denta.

 

Cole hopped back, eyes wide. “Rude. I was going to go easy on you, but… nah.” Reaching behind him by feel alone, he grabbed one of the two tools Megatron instructed for him to use. “I wonder how much you can take before I make you scream.” A flick of a switch, the pulsar-cane flared to life. It buzzed softly in his gloved hand. Still unsure what he could do with it, the blond gave Megatron’s back a light blow.

 

The bound bastard dared to roll his optics at him. “I suppose that’s the best one can expect from a _human_.”

 

Fuck it.

 

 _Crack! Crack! Crack!_ Even without full force, Cole’s blows split the metal like fresh welds, and he didn't cease until fuchsia welled up in the deeper cross-marks of his staccato wrath. When he paused, he heard the ragged gasps of his master. The young man grinned and raised the pulsar-cane. “Your own fault, you know? Shouldn’t have treated me like a fucking toy!” He brought it down onto the weeping welts again, wincing at a small splash of energon that flared up.

 

A sharp intake and Megatron let out an irate "Carbon!"

 

“Shit.” Cole set the pulsar-cane aside and hit his knees, a hand to Megatron’s faceplate. “What is it? Did I do too much?”

 

“Do not,” the hellions' voice dropped to its huskiest register. “ _ever_ use our arrangement in a scene like this.”

 

He flushed bright red, shrinking back a little. “Oh. A'ight. I’m sorry.”

 

The mech growled. “You are here willingly. _Never_ imply otherwise.”

 

Cole nodded and kissed his master's brow. He cupped one of his audios in his palm. "I hear you. Won't do it again. Do you need to stop for now?"

 

Ruby optics burned like coals. “Don’t you _dare_.”

 

With that, Cole blinked and pulled back with a wicked grin. "A shame. I almost felt like letting you go." Taking up the pulsar-cane again, he tapped it against his gloved palm. " _Almost_.” He cracked it as hard as he could against Megatron’s faceplate, earning a screech. A thin line of fuchsia ran from the wound. “Oh, that’s gonna leave a mark, but I wanna leave more.” The clawed gloves came in handy again as Cole raked them across Megatron’s outer thighs in a screech of metal. “Roll over, bitch.”

 

Megatron sneered. Such an ugly look for him, really. It almost ruined how pretty the rivulets of energon made him.

 

Cole frowned and reached backward for the prod. "I said-" He jammed the tip of the prod into a back seam and pulled the trigger. "Roll over!" Rapid fire clicking and a cry of pain were all he heard, but Megatron did roll onto his back. Plating retracted to reveal the hard, leaking plug between the mechs' legs. "You think I'm gonna ride you. That's _cute_.” Cole ran his gloved fingers down the flexible shaft, before dipping lower. He dug two, clawed fingers into the searing hot port of his master, caught a wire and tugged-

 

“You glitch!” The hellion arched. “How _dare_ you!”

 

Cole deadpanned. "Shut the fuck up." He added a third finger and drummed them at the roof of the opening. "You just sit back and take it." Withdrawing his hand, the human bundled his fingers into a spearhead and pushed his fist inside. He felt a thrill at the open-mouthed silent scream his master was giving, optics wide and bright. "How's this feel?" Wiggling his fingers, he pressed deeper to cover his arm with more lubricant. "Is it good?" He didn't give Megatron a chance to reply before he hooked a clawed finger into something soft. "Answer!"

 

“Frag you!”

 

“You wish." Cole withdrew his arm slowly and slid it back in even slower. "Your mouth says no, but your port is just begging for more." He bottomed out, just about up to his elbow, and thrust his arm a few, quick times. "Never took you for a size queen, but I can help." Pulling out fully dragged a whine from the mech on the berth. Cole chuckled to himself. This was a lot more fun that he'd thought it'd be, but he wasn't done yet. "Say you want it back inside you." He ran a claw around the port, leaving the tiniest scratches. "Say it, and I _might_ put it back in.” He walked two fingers up Megatron’s thigh, before pressing his thumb to the nest of wires an inch inside of his port.

 

The mech shuddered, baring his dental-plates at him. “Like pit I will.”

 

“Mm. Oh well.” Reaching behind him and plucking the pulsar-cane up again, he ducked under the spreader bar. “It was so much fun, too.” Without ceremony, Cole lashed at his master time and again, not stopping for anything. Not the screams, not the energon that welled up in the harshest blows, nothing. Not until he wanted to would he stop.

 

It was minutes later that he did, if only because his shoulder ached. The lacework of scars glowed brightly with fresh energon. “Now say it. Say you want this filthy organic to fist you until you scream. Say it, you bitch.”

 

Megatron panted. His port and plug were both leaking. The mechanisms of the port churned with a need to clasp something. “Cole,” he rasped. “Put your arm back. _Now!_ ”

 

Resuming his place between the mechs legs, he did so. Painfully slow. The gloves went up to his shoulders and connected to an odd, apron-like thing that flapped about his hips. For his protection, Megatron said. Thankfully the garment wasn't cumbersome. He drew back and pushed in time after time, never slowing and never going faster than a snail's pace. It was amazing that his master could take so much, and just how tightly he squeezed his forearm. It was like a full-arm blood pressure cuff.

 

Still, pump after pump did little more than rev the mech up. Megatron made a request for the end, and the ending was going to come down like the wrath of an angry god. Slowly Cole pulled his arm out for the last time, leaving the mech to gape and constrict pathetically on the berth.

 

“G-get back here!”

 

The human opened the toy chest and hefted up the absolutely terrifying play-plug. It was thicker than his arm by at least three inches, covered in ridges and bolts. _Not_ something he'd want in his ass. Megatron's drooling port, however… He turned back with a grin, thumping the massive tool into the air and catching it with a soft ‘oof' at its weight. "I don't think you can take this."

 

“Don't you dare!" All Cole heard was ‘for spark's sake, hurry it up!'

 

Striding over to where he'd set the pulsar-cane, he lifted it and gently placed the tip to Megatron's inner thigh plating. "Don't what? Stop?" The gentlest stroke peeled away a curl of paint. He did it again to the opposite thigh, before using the same hand to stroke the near-vibrating plug with his palm. He quietly lowered the pulsar-cane and plucked the prod from the floor. He didn't touch it to the body of the mech, but he did set it off to send waves of sparkling light across the room. "How would this feel going off in your port?"

 

“Carbon.”

 

The young man blinked, looking up from between his master’s legs. “Hard no?”

 

Megatron quirked a brow. “ _Very_ hard no.”

 

“A'ight. Ruin all my fun." Cole dropped it to one side and lifted the play-plug again. The question of whether or not it'd actually fit was still on his mind. Only one way to find out. Lining up the tip with the entrance, he slowly slid the thick toy into his master's port. It got about half way before it seemed to get stuck. "Only half? _Pathetic_.” A quick tug and thrust only made the mech under him choke.

 

No warming up with the toy, just brutal thrusting. As requested.

 

Megatron’s port worked itself open slowly, earning a screech of metal against internals as Cole pushed and pulled as hard as his body would allow. This required him to all but slam his body into the base of the toy to force it further in. It was a work out worthy of the exhaustion. His hard-on was enough proof of that if the sweat and dirty talk weren’t.

 

It wasn’t long before the hellions' port was at its maximum stretch. The toy squelched and pulled angry moans from the mech, and it was when his plug started to exude a small stream of lubricant that Cole pulled it out completely.

 

Megatron's helm shot up with a ragged snarl. "Wh-a-a-at are y-y-ou" He was so close his vocals glitched out when he rasped out a few words.

 

“Beg.”

 

Megatron growled.

 

Cole lined the toy up with his port again but held it there. "Beg for this fat plug, or I'll leave you tied up for the night." Not part of their scene _exactly_ , but Megatron had said Cole could go as far as he liked unless told otherwise. “I might leave you here for _Shockwave_ to find when he comes by unless you give me a good reason to ram this sucker into your gaping port.” Dragging a clawed finger down the silver thigh before him, Cole waited, smirking. “Can you imagine his face? Maybe Lugnut’s face would be better since he has one-”

 

“P-please-”

 

“Please _what_?”

 

The hellion's vents heaved due to the delay of release. "Ple-ea-ease- fra-ag me into o-o-oblivion."

 

The toy slid in just enough to get a groan from him. “Say my _name_ . Say my _word_ , and I’ll give it to you.”

 

His optics smoldered, baring his dental plates in raw lust. “Ple-ase, _Cole_ , fu-u-uck me."

 

“Of course, my liege.” He mocked, but he obliged with all his weight, near slamming the plug into the searing, soaked port before him. Cole thrust the toy as quickly as he could manage, and was met with the best show of his life in half a minute.

 

The Decepticons' body arched off the berth, held aloft on his shoulder-armor and pedes. His port and plug both went mad with fluids and twitches from the over and under-stimulation they received. Parts of his body sparked and smoldered from it, port clutching the toy like a lifeline.

 

Cole quietly sat back and tugged himself into an orgasm. He came down long before his master did.

 

Megatron’s overload ended with a heavy sag of his bulk onto the berth. His vents cycled madly as he wound down. Dark optics glanced about the tank for the human. “Cole.”

 

“I’m here.” He was up and over in an instant, warm hands bare of the gloves. “You feeling alright?”

 

The hellion grinned. “Better than alright, pet.”

 

“Good. I hope I didn't go too far. You feel good enough to stand up?"

 

“In a moment.”

 

“Take your time, no rush on my part.” Cole trailed his hands down to Megatron’s port. “I’m gonna take this out, okay? Stop me if you need a minute.” He pulled gently, and the play-plug slid out with a gush of lube. “Wow. You had fun.”

 

“Did you?”

 

Cole set the toy aside before grabbing a towel, and pressing it to the gaping hole. “Yeah. It was… different. But I liked it. I didn’t realize how difficult it was to be the dom. I can see doing it again… eventually.”

 

Megatron graced him with a lazy smile. “I’m sated for at _least_ another decicvorn.”

 

“Oh, cool.” Having cleaned up the mess, he undid the leg spreaders and cuffs. “There we go. Got your limbs back.”

 

Megatron sat up, his plug retracting and plating sliding shut. Cole reached for his stomach plating and was stopped by the black servo of his master. "Don't."

 

“You don’t need help?” asked the human, just a touch wounded.

 

“Energon leaves burns on organics, remember?” He took the towel, and wiped himself down gingerly. “Get the sealing putty.”

 

“Right." Cole gathered up the supplies and sat on the berth. "Okay. Let me get your back."

 

“Am I leaking there?”

 

“A bit, but I can get to it.”

 

“Ah.” Still holding the towel to the seeping wounds on his thighs, he sat still as Cole worked diligently on his injuries. “You certainly seemed to have fun.”

 

Sliding the putty knife across the gash, the human nodded. “I did. I just… well, if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

 

The mech frowned. “Pet.”

 

“Master." At the unconvinced frown, the mech gave him, Cole sighed. "I'm kinda happy with not having to do this all the time. It is fun, but I like getting hit rather than doing the hitting." Once he finished with Megatron's back, he moved to the thighs. Only a few of the cuts he managed to make were leaking, and just barely Something to do with repair nanites. "I have gloves. Like, human gloves. Should I wear gloves?"

 

“You best.”

 

“Okay. Hold tight." Cole stepped away, pulling a couple of black nitrile gloves from their box. He doubled up to be sure and headed back to his master. "We'll have to flip the mattress to be sure your energon doesn't bleed through to me." Getting to his knees, he began to clean up.

 

“Agreed.” He sat still and allowed the blond man to tend the lacerations. He was gentle but prompt. Swipe the cut clean, apply putty. Swipe, apply. Swipe apply. Swipe, apply, kiss- wait. “Hmm?”

 

Cole glanced up. “Is that okay?”

 

“I’m not complaining.”

 

“A'ight.” Thighs done, Cole stood. “Okay, now your front. I did a number on your abdomen.”

 

The hellion leaned into the berth, silent. His scarlet optics followed Cole’s careful ministrations, unblinking yet exhausted. Strange, to have the human take the job of aftercare. Not unwanted by any means.

 

“Should I get your cheek?”

 

“It’s already sealing itself shut.”

 

“Ah… this brings up memories, y’know.” The blond didn’t look up from his care. “Not bad or good, just there.”

 

He leaned back, optics fixed on the ceiling above. “Do tell.”

 

The man blinked. “When I ran from home, I was fifteen. That’s too young to do anything, really. I helped out at the homeless shelter. Met Sarah there. I even got to continue some schooling.” He paused to smooth more putty into an angry welt, and kissed a clean place above it. “I spent my time making soup, washing clothes, and patching up scared kids. That’s where I found I wanted t-” Cole paused, and cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

 

Megatron was growing tired from the overload, but he was awake enough to ask “Found what?”

 

“Well. I found I _wanted_ to be a nurse. They assist medics with patients.” He sealed the final welt before screwing the lid back onto the putty. “This is what I want now, though. Better than nursing school. How long’s this stuff take to harden?”

 

“Two joors, at this size.”

 

“Okay.” Cole stood and headed to the foot of the bed. “Think you can stand for a bit so I can make the bed?”

 

The mech stood, his frame aching. Nice and easy, he’d had worse.

 

Cole stripped the bed, wadding up the bed sheets and tossing them into a bin by the bathroom and grabbing up a new set from the small chest near to it. He turned in time to see Megatron grip the mattress in both servos, lift it over his helm, and flip it over.

 

The blond stared, brows knit. "I just knocked the shit outta you, and you flip a mattress like it's a goddamn pancake."

 

Megatron scoffed, optics dim.

 

Dark gray sheets in place, Cole grinned at his master. “You need anything else?”

 

The mech gave a soft nod of his helm and climbed into the bed. His optics dimmed, and he rolled onto his left side, leaving an open space. "Come here."

 

“Oh! Gladly.” Crawling into the berth, he kept a good bit of space between himself and his master’s chassis.

 

Not satisfied with this, the mech reached out and pulled his pet closer. He left his arm draped over Cole’s waist. “Much better.”

 

Deep down, Cole wanted to be thrilled. On the surface, he gave his best smile. He looked up to his master's pale faceplate, only to find he'd gone into recharge. The markings around his optics went utterly black when he did, a dead giveaway that Megatron was _out cold_.

 

While Cole gazed at the details of his master’s faceplate, Megatron's rest was full of thoughts about just how much he’d taken away from his pet.

 

**X**

 

_**Metropolis** _

_**Has nothing on this** _

_**You´re breathing in fumes** _

_**I taste when we kiss** _

_**Take my hand** _

_**Come back to the land** _

_**Where everything´s ours** _

_**For a few hours** _

_**Let me see you stripped** _

_**Let me see you stripped** _

 

**X**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be time skips. This fic looks at the major points of their relationship.


	4. Year 5: Black Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A double-agent dooms many when she steals from the warlord.

**Year Five: Black Sun**

 

**X**

 

_**There is whiskey in the water** _

_**And there is death upon the vine** _

_**There is fear in the eyes of your father** _

_**And there is "Yours" and there is "Mine"** _

_**There is a desert veiled in pavement** _

_**And there's a city of seven hills** _

_**And all our debris flows to the ocean** _

_**To meet again, I hope it will** _

_**How could something so fair** _

_**Be so cruel** _

_**When this black sun revolved** _

_**Around you** _

 

**X**

 

Tinswitch knew that after this mission, she’d never be cut out for deep-cover work. Quicker, get-in-get-out stuff like this was better. Sure, she’d overstayed her welcome, but she got something intel-wise out of her visit to the Decepticon warship.

 

Wasn’t one for the drab color scheme, but she’d be out of there in a few kliks, just one more thing to do. Not her duty, but a duty to the poor thing held captive in tanks too close to so much carnage for its own good.

 

She had to act quickly. Lord Megatron was out of his chambers for now, but he’d no doubt return within the joor. Perhaps her departure would cause a longer delay, but she couldn’t stand around debating.

 

Tinswitch held out her thumb to the doors console. A bundle of wires popped out and threaded under the console. Audios intent for what Decepticons may be heading her way, she overrode the console’s locking mechanisms and quickly stepped inside.

 

“Hello, mast-” Cole paused, eyes wide. His brows furrowed at the femme. “You're not Lord Megatron. How’d you get in here?”

 

“I hope not!” Scurrying to the panel that controlled the tank walls, she wasted no time scooping the human up and stuffing him into her tiny cockpit.

 

“What the fuck, lady!” Cole kicked at the glass of her insides, barely having room to move let alone breathe. “Let me go! You’re gonna get yourself killed!”

 

“Fat chance, kid." Racing down the hall to the loading bay, Tinswitch pressurized her tiny compartment for the human within and tried her best to look nonchalant as she passed the triple-changer to her right.

 

Not garnering any attention from him, or anyone else it seemed, the femme made her way to the smaller evacuation exit and braced herself for the cold of space.

 

“No!" Cole let out a shriek and flailed his arms and legs best he could. "Blitzwing!" He cried out, but the triple-changer didn't hear him. "Oh god, no! No, no! Please!" Tears blurred his vision, and the human screamed at the top of his lungs as the small evacuation door opened.

 

Tinswitch winced as the human kicked about, but smirked at the Autobot ship that quickly uncloaked itself and beckoned for her to come back aboard.

 

“Megatron!" Cole shrieked, panic and pulse skyrocketing as the opening of the ship shrank, and his vision was filled with the darkness of space.

 

All of that seemed to matter so little, now, as Cole slowly blacked out from the lack of oxygen. It was a miracle the femme who stole him knew to pressurize her cabin, or he’d have died the second they left the ship.

 

/

 

Seriously, an intel-agent on his vessel? How had that gone unnoticed until after she fled with information? Megatron frowned deeply at the implications, but it seemed that the Autobot ship was in no real hurry. He could, after all, still see them just barely in the expanse of space before them. “Shockwave, report.”

 

Claws tapping and optic on the screen, Shockwave nodded. "It appears that one of our recruits was, in fact, a spy. Small femme who went by Grimflair. Recruited with a group of newer soldiers before the _Empirion_ arrived for us.”

 

Megatron scowled down at him. “Why was she not found sooner?”

 

“I hadn't proof that I could obtain without the femme realizing she'd been caught." Shockwave scratched the side of his helm, optic wide. "While the agent escaped, I planted a stasis bomb inside of her chassis some orns ago while she had a maintenance check." A few clacks against the keys of the console, and he hit a flashing, greenish button. "And with _that_ , she’ll remain in stasis lock for the next five orns. Whatever intel she managed to gather, it’s stuck in her helm until the bomb deactivates.” He extended a servo to the screen. The Autobot ship was a speck of silver-white in the vast, empty galaxy ahead.

 

Megatron glared at the speck. “What’s stopping a medic from removing the device?”

 

“Nothing that won’t send their ship to the pit, and no medic will risk that.”

 

That gave him plenty of time to plan how he would punish the traitor once they caught up to the vessel. No need to rush. Let the traitor femme suffer a few orns or so for her foolishness. “Well done, now then, scan the _Empirion_ for anything out of the ordinary.”

 

“At once.” It only took a cycle to check, but the results weren’t what anyone expected. If one didn’t know better, one would think the antlered cons servos were shaking. “Oh. My liege,” Shockwave’s words dropped to a whisper. “A scan of the ship indicates there are no signs of organic life on board.”

 

Megatron grew still, optics trained on his SIC. “What.” His faceplate hardened.

 

“I'll run a secondary scan, Lord Megatron." But it gave them the same results. As did the third and fourth scan. Shockwave's spark shrank in its casing, optic contracting to a needlepoint of controlled outrage. "My liege, there is no doubt of it. It seems that the Autobots have taken Cole."

 

There was silence in the control room. The few mechs within who had heard the exchange didn’t fully understand. The Autobots stole their master’s pet? For what reason? Had they a death wish, or were Autobots really that dumb?

 

The words the Decepticon warlord uttered next were colder than the vacuum of space. “Cloak us.”

 

Any sign the _Empirion_ was there swiftly vanished.

 

“Ready tractor beam.”

 

Shockwave fired up the beam and aimed for the ship.

 

“Engage.” He turned to the throne, many a mech scrambling to get out of the icy path of his wrath. Sitting in his throne, his optics were twin fires in the cool darkness of the control room. He did not drum his digits, or cross his pedes. He sat, and watched, faceplate set harder than titanium.

 

A moment passed, and Shockwave spoke out. "I have them, my lord."

 

“Retract the beam.”

 

“At once." It was slow going, but it was a pull that the Autobots wouldn't be able to escape from, let alone detect. "They shall be within docking range within one-half joor."

 

The hellion did not reply. While outside he was a frozen tundra, internally his rage was roiling hotter than lava ready to split a volcano.

 

The Autobots _stole from him._ He would ensure they learned the magnitude of their mistake.

 

/

 

“-she’d go into stasis lock!”

 

“I need to examine her closer to be sure!”

 

Cole’s world swam back to him in the form of a shouting match. He sat up against a garishly bright interior, head aching. Turning his head, he glanced about for the femme that had… had… “ _Fuck_.” Where’d that asshole femme go?

 

The chatter in the room cut out, and several sets of blue optics fell on him.

 

“What the hell is this?” He grumbled and turned over onto his stomach. His vision was blurry from suddenly passing out in a poorly-oxygenated environment. There was a twitching rattling to his left, and what he found there wasn’t what he had expected.

 

The femme who abducted him lay frozen, save for a faint twitch of something here and there. Her mouth and optics were frozen open in stark terror, bolts of electricity surging in the open cavity. What was worse was her paint job, flashing from deep blue to a pastel purple. Purple belonged to those loyal to Megatron, not this glitch of a femme.

 

“Oho, you two-faced twat!" Cole shouted at the spasming femme. He wheeled on the heavy, pale orange mech next to her. "What the fuck is this?" His arms spread wide as he gestured about the stark, white walls of the ship.

 

The squat orange mech replied. “Helix Prime’s ship, organic.” He pointed to the femme. “An’ this femme here risked her life to save yours, so you should be thanking her when she’s better.”

 

“Speaking of,” The faded-purple mech lifted the femme into his arms. “I’ll transport her to the medical wing. If she shows any changes, I will let you know.”

 

“Thanks,” groused the orange mech. Once the medic and the traitor femme left the room, he glared down at Cole. “ _You_ should be grateful.”

 

Cole gaped. “Grateful? She kidnapped me!”

 

“Nah, we’re taking you back home. Y’know, to Earth,” The mech said with a wide grin.

 

“Fuck _Earth_. I’m a Decepticon! I have been for five years!”

 

There was quiet, before the heavy mech guffawed, a servo to his helm. "Aw, Primus, that's funny!" The door slid open next to him, and in walked a thinner, taller mech, who gave the laughing one a look of complete disfavor.

 

“Gearsnapper, can’t you be quiet?”

 

Gearsnapper, it seemed, didn’t care what this new mech asked. “Eh, get a sense of humor, needles! This little fella thinks he’s a Decepticon!”

 

New mech didn't like being called needles, it seemed if his glare was any indication. He picked Cole off the berth with such gentility that the human could have slipped free if he'd the desire to. "I'm going to speak with him privately, as Helix Prime has asked." He turned on hoof-like pedes down a short hall.

 

“Have fun, needles!”

 

The mech holding Cole grumbled, and all but slapped the console to open the habsuite. He set Cole onto a berth, as he sat on the floor next to it.

 

Cole turned to look at him, face twisted in frustration. “What’s up with that femme?”

 

The thinner mech smiled gently at Cole as he set him onto a berth. “Don’t worry about Tinswitch. She’s had worse.”

 

“I’m not worried, I’m _furious_. I thought she was a Decepticon!”

 

“Well, she’s… good at her purpose.” He finished lamely. “I’m Wiretap, by the by. Who’re you?”

 

“Cole. Megatron’s pet human.”

 

He chirruped at the human. “Pet? No, no. Prisoner.”

 

“Pet.”

 

Wiretap tried again. “...captive?”

 

“ _Pet_.” Cole pointedly tugged his collar.

 

“...hostage?”

 

“Pets wear collars, he gave me a collar. Therefore I am his _pet_.” He sat with a grunt. “You stole someone’s pet. Who does that? That's fucked.”

 

“Huh." Wiretap blinked and leaned his helm into a palm. "We haven't any documentation that Decepticons keep pets."

 

“Guess I’m one of a kind, then.” Cole’s eyes narrowed at the mech. “Well, what _do_ you know about the Decepticons?”

 

A beat. "Only what we get from history and Intel."

 

“Oh, wow, well then you don't know scrap." He folded his arms at Wiretap, who at least could look apologetic.

 

“Why don’t you… start from the beginning?”

 

“Of what?”

 

“Since I don’t know scrap, why not enlighten me?” The gray-green mech shrugged. “So, how about you coming to be under Megatron?”

 

Gray eyes narrowed. “Why?”

 

Wiretap sighed softly, his wide audios flicking backward. "I'll be blunt, human. I'm new at this role of mine. I'm an interrogator by rank, and if it's all the same to you, I _want_ to understand your angle. Even if no one else here does.”

 

“Why?”

 

He frowned. “It’ll… help me.”

 

Cole huffed. “You know my master’s gonna be _pissed_ when he finds out I’m gone, right?”

 

“Well then, how about we discuss why that is?” He tapped his pointed digits on the berth’s edge.

 

“What are you, a psychologist?”

 

“Sadly.”

 

“Oh.” Cole blinked.

 

“Not what I would have liked, either. Two duties, only one of which I take pleasure in.”

 

A moment of quiet passed.

 

“Well… I was _born_ on Earth. Near Detroit, maybe an hour out. I had a big brother named Matthew, and my parents. A male and female, Cornelius and Bridget. That’s how humans are made a lot of the time, y’know. A male and female, or components of both. Females are carriers.”

 

“I see.”

 

“Yeah, well, my male parental unit, my dad? He died in an earth war when I was a kid.” He sighed. “Then my brother willingly reformatted into a female, named Helena. She’s happier now, with a man who loves her.” He left out that this man was, in fact, a certain black and gold ninjabot.

 

“And your female parental unit?”

 

“She went crazy when I told her I liked males, so I ran away.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Where I come from, reformatting like my sister did, or being attracted to the same unit as yourself, isn’t always accepted.”

 

Wiretap’s optics went wide. “Sounds tedious!”

 

“Oh, yeah. It’s bullshit. It used to be the norm to hate on that sorta stuff.” Cole cracked his back, earning a startled chirrup from the gray-green mech. “Oh, that’s a thing humans do. I’m fine.”

 

“N-not that. It’s- well, may I touch you?”

 

“Uh… okay?”

 

The mechs' pointed digits hooked Cole's shirt and lifted it slightly. "By the Allspark. Who did this?"

 

“What are you-” He looked down to the healing welts he’d received not long ago. “Oh. _Ooh_ … okay. That’s… that’s something I can’t talk about.”

 

“Cole, if Megatron is hurting you-”

 

The young man threw up his hands. “No, no! I mean, he _does_ hurt me, but… well. He does it because I like it.”

 

“You _like_ getting injured?” The Autobots mouth twisted in horror.

 

He shrugged. “My master’s a private mech. All I can really tell you is that it’s more than what it seems.”

 

“More than meets the eye?”

 

Cole snorted out a laugh. “I guess? But to be fair, we didn’t always mesh like we do now. It started as a hostage situation!”

 

That’s when Cole got into the meat of where his life with the Decepticons really began. How he’d been swept off the street and placed in a tank. How he’d been a bargaining chip that somehow turned into more. How he’d forgiven Megatron for the torture he’d had done to him. How _Megatron_ had rescued him from the forest fire a battle had started. The odd kinship they shared as master and pet, skipping any saucy details, of course. The closeness they’d grown after the many years in their roles.

 

“-and no matter what, either he comes for me, or someone else does." Cole's eyes welled up by the end. "That's why I'm loyal to him. He takes care of me. He shares things with me. He listens to me and, my god, is he brilliant. He's strong, courageous and incredible.” Rubbing his sleeve across his face, neither of them heard the door to the habsuite open. “He loves me.”

 

“Decepticons don’t _love_ anything, kiddo.” The voice of Gearsnapper grumbled as he hoisted himself onto the opposite berth. He passed a cube of energon to Wiretap, who turned it down with a distracted servo.

 

“ _You_ don’t know him like I do.” The human replied.

 

“I know enough, more than you ever could.” Gearsnapper sneered down at Cole. “You got any idea how many lives he’s taken?”

 

“How many have _Autobots_ taken?”

 

The light-orange mech jabbed a thick digit his way. “Yeah? How about the torture? The mind wipes? The forced reprogramming?”

 

Cole glared. “Buddy, if you’re just gonna rattle off propaganda, you can mute it. Those things aren’t common, and not without reason.” He folded into himself, grimacing. “That's the problem with Autobots! You’re all so sure everything’s black and white that you go 'that's not a _real_ color!' when you see gray!”

 

“Ain’t nothing gray about cold-coded murder!”

 

“But when your side does it, it’s fine? At least Decepticons don't reformat _sparklings_ against their alt-mode!”

 

Wiretap stood between the two in an instant, his voice lowered and calm. “Gearsnapper, that’s enough. The little human’s been through a lot. Brainwashing is _strenuous_ , you know that.”

 

Said little human sneered behind the gray-green mech’s back plating. Brainwashed? Ha!

 

“Whatever, needles! Good luck with this one. Take your cube before it goes stale.” He stomped out of the habsuite, the door sealing up behind him.

 

The blond blinked and turned to Wiretap only to find his faceplate had melted into a melancholy that made it hard for Cole to keep up any front of malice he had.

 

The gray-green mech glanced down at him, smiling sadly. “You’re not brainwashed at all, are you, Cole?”

 

“Nah. Maybe a little fucked in the head, but that's genetics for you." He shrugged and sat closer to Wiretap. "So… why do they keep calling you needles? You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I do not see the joke?"

 

The mech’s optics flickered. “Oh.” He held up a servo, and slowly a thin, sharp needle emerged from the tip of each digit. They gleamed eerily in the light. “No _real_ reason.” The needles retracted just as slowly as they emerged. “I suppose it’s just the Autobot way to bully those who aren’t _able_ to use their gifts.”

 

“What, uh, what do they do?”

 

“Mnemosurgery.”

 

He shot the mech a flat look. “I have no idea what that means.”

 

“They would allow me to see and edit a subjects memories and even their _coding_ to however I please,” he sighed, and let his helm tap the wall gently. “But Autobots don’t _do_ forced data extraction.”

 

“So instead of letting you do the thing you're good at, they stick you where you’re unhappy.”

 

A mirthless laugh. “Indeed.”

 

“Those sound like an amazing thing to have, though! They’d save time, that’s or sure!” The human crossed his arms, brows knit in concern. “But if you’re so unhappy… why don’t you leave?”

 

“Where would I go?”

 

“Neutral? There’s plenty of them.” Cole smiled sheepishly then. “Or… maybe you could join us?”

 

The mechs helm snapped to him, optics wide. “Decepticons aren’t-”

 

“Hey, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But, listen, you’ve got a gift in your servos, and there’s plenty of things you could be with our side. We don’t stick bots in boxes! There’s also a handful of Decepticons who were Autobots before. They joined our side because they saw the gray.”

 

“...the gray?”

 

“Uh, how things aren’t black and white but Autobots don’t think gray’s a real color-”

 

“Oh! Your metaphor, right!” He lay a servo to the side of his helm. “Right...”

 

“Hey." Cole nodded to the cube across from them. "Don't forget your cube… and, uh… I'm not gonna force you to join us, like I actually could. But, you’re probably gonna wanna get off the ship when you can.”

 

Wiretap polished his cube off in a few fast swallows, setting it aside to blink down at Cole. “Why’s that?”

 

“You’ve been a _great_ host, and I think you’d get along with some of the tamer crew.” Cole eyed him unhappily. “But Tinswitch stole me from Megatron. I’m his fool to the end, but if I know anything-”

 

A sudden lurch of the ship caused Cole to topple onto one side. Wiretap stood, audios twisting and spinning like mad.

 

“If I know _anything_ about my master,” Cole mumbled to himself, locking eye-to-optic with the deeply frightened mech before him, “then it’s too late for your crewmates.”

 

It was silent on that ship for the longest time.

 

Then, terribly, it _wasn’t_.

 

/

 

The tractor beam pulled the Autobot ship as close as it could, the ship giving a small lurch as it came to a stop. Megatron exited the _Empirion_ via the loading bay the moment the ship was in docking range. He landed as softly as possible, his digits leaving dents where they clasped the hull. There was no point in ripping open a hole to climb through. The front door would suffice.

 

Although, the wheel latch would not survive. Megatron ripped it free from the door and pried it open enough for him to fit. No easy task, considering how small Autobots were. Still, he entered, sealed the door shut behind him tightly…

 

… and kicked the door to the control room from its hinges with one strike.

 

Helix Prime didn't get the chance to draw his flail when the silver hellion lunged. He didn't even get a chance to turn and see his killer as his helm was severed cleanly from his shoulders. Searing hot energon bubbled out of his open wound and stained his white pearl armor in fuchsia. The blade sliced down at a diagonal, splitting the mech cleanly through his spark chamber and ending his life in a blink. Pearl white armor faded to gunmetal gray.

 

Megatron moved silently through the ship, an omen of death in its pristine halls. He entered the medical wing, spying the treacherous femme on an examination table.

 

A sudden blow to his back plating made him turn. A dull-purple mech had launched himself at him, but the fool was too small to even begin to topple the outraged warlord.

 

Megatron reached backward to the mech on his plating and wrenched him forward. Gripping the mech around the chest-plate, his optics burned with hate that could stop a hardened warrior in their tracks. He squeezed until he heard metal groan in protest. "The human."

 

“Wh-what-" The medic was cut off by another, harder squeeze. Glass cracked, and framework buckled.

 

“Where.” Not a question, a command.

 

“I-I-I don’t-”

 

“ _Where_.” Metal groaned and squealed.

 

“Hh-habsuite four!"

 

The hellion crushed the medic with a sharp crunch. He dropped the shell to the ground as its colors faded away to gray. His focus landed upon the nearby table.

 

His faceplate remained passive as he stared holes into the stasis-locked femme who’d stolen from him. Too easy. Too _merciful_. He’d bring her back to the ship and deal with her then. Habsuite four came into view quickly, as did a certain orange eyesore who chose then to roar and charge him.

 

Megatron didn’t waste time, swords drawn, and lunged for the Autobot that was keeping him from the doors to his human.

 

/

 

“I hear him!" Cole cried out and stared up at Wiretap's shaking frame. "Dude, you wanna live, listen to me, okay?"

 

Wiretap stood frozen as carnage raged outside.

 

“Wiretap! _Please!_ You deserve better than his wrath!”

 

He shook his helm, audios falling back. “I… a-alright. What must I do?”

 

“Okay, okay, uh..." The blonds mind went back over everything he knew about what loyal Decepticons did, and came up with basics. "Get on one knee. Only call him Lord or liege, he _hates_ sir. Are you a righty or a lefty?”

 

“A _what?”_

 

“N-nevermind, just hold me!" Cole scrambled to the edge of the berth and was scooped up swiftly. Adjusting his legs to straddle the mech's middle digits, he braced himself as Wiretap got to a knee, free arm draped over his upward knee. "Okay, good. Now… we wait."

 

“Wait?” cried the mech disbelievingly.

 

“Yeah, we wait! If you’re holding me, he won’t fucking obliterate you.” He hoped. He liked this guy. “Also, for what it’s worth? I think you’d make a good Decepticon. Maybe it’s cuz you’re friendly, but Autobots wouldn’t know a gift if it were up their ports! You’re wasted here, I’m dead serious!”

 

A massive crash, quick footfalls, and the crunching of metal.

 

“Cole… I’ll join.”

 

“Really?”

 

“If they’ll have me, I’ll do it.” If he were honest with himself, then this was the best outcome he could hope for. Autobots were meant to be the good side, the winning side, the side that accepted and protected. Yet all he felt when he thought of staying was more nicknames he hated and a duty he didn’t want to have. Staying was stagnation. He _needed_ to move. “These bots would rather poke fun than let me shine my brightest. No need to stick around, I say!”

 

“Okay, cool. But, uh, get that decal off your shoulder.” He pointed above himself to the Autobot insignia.

 

“Mm." Shuttering his optics at the drawn-out scream from beyond the door, he steeled himself and altered a small snippet of coding. When he reopened his optics, they glowed a deep red. Slit pupils landed on the human in his servo with a nervous smile.

 

“Oh, that’s better.” Cole gave a nod. “Okay, rip off that decal, and-”

 

The doors opened. A towering mech of silver and scarlet filled the frame. His optics burned in the dark, trained upon the human held in the pointed servo of a gray-green mech.

 

Cole sighed, smiling in relief. “Master.”

 

Megatron’s optics narrowed. “Pet.”

 

There was a ripping sound, and the Decepticon warlord glanced to the sound to see an Autobot decal curl up and flutter to the floor. Red met red.

 

Wiretap remained still. “Lord.”

 

Cole held up an arm. “Master, hear me out, _please_.”

 

Megatron's faceplate remained cold, but he lowered his helm slightly. “Why?”

 

Cole took the opportunity to explain, his own arms raised. "This one's renounced the Autobots. He kept me safe and listened to my story of how I joined you. He wants to join us."

 

“It’s true.”

 

“He’s also got these amazing tools in his hands!”

 

Amazing? Well! “I do.” Extending the mneumosurgical needles of his free servo, he kept himself as still as possible.

 

Megatron said nothing but bent slightly to open his servo to his human.

 

Cole obligingly climbed into it and grabbed his thumb in a tight hug.

 

The hellions' gaze turned back to the gray-green mech still kneeling to him. He frowned. “Bring the femme.” He turned away from the mech, Cole still in one hand, as they passed the carnage left in the wake of an outraged Decepticon.

 

Seemed Gearsnapper wasn't a great fighter if the twenty-odd bits of him strewn about were any indication.

 

Wiretap hefted Tinswitch over a shoulder with minimal effort and awaited what was to come next. He hadn't expected what he saw.

 

Megatron held the human close to his faceplate, optics far calmer now. Cole lay a hand to the marking under the mechs mouth.

 

A private moment between master and pet that he would graciously forget he saw.

 

Megatron transformed, cockpit open for the human to climb inside. The man did so, and the crimson canopy snapped shut. Megatron fired his canon and blew a massive hole into the side of the ship. No need to reserve oxygen now that he had his human back. “Come.” He launched himself out of the ship and headed for the _Empirion_ , blades slicing in the silence of space.

 

Staring after him, Wiretap adjusted the femme on his shoulder, engaged his thrusters, and followed.

 

/

 

A thorough examination from the relieved-and-contrite SIC and Cole was none the worse for wear. Stressed out and tired, but he was otherwise fine. Not a poor diagnosis, considering the blackout due to lack of oxygen was more frightening than fatal.

 

Wiretap was left to the scrutiny of a displeased Shockwave, who deemed it necessary to examine this newcomer thoroughly from helm to pede by a medic. Fool him _once_ , end up like Tinswitch. Fooling him _twice_ was not an option.

 

Cole was content to be back in the tank of his master's chambers. The bed still made from when he'd gotten up. Drink cup still in the sink. The rug still on the floor with the coffee table, chair, and newer beanbag. Everything was as it had been before he'd been taken.

 

He wasn’t so content with how quiet his master seemed to be. His silence meant he wasn’t pleased, or was thinking too much, or wasn’t pleased to be thinking too much.

 

The mech stood guard by the bathroom, not uttering a word. He didn’t make a grab for the human, even _playfully_ , when he stepped out of the bathroom. He merely watched him walk by, dress, and only moved away from where he stood to take a seat on the bed. Those dark, scarlet optics never left Cole's body, roving his curves and flesh not with lust, but with caution.

 

“Master?” Cole took a step around the bed to be before him, and waited within arms reach for… something. Anything.

 

Black digits dug into the fabric of the bed. “Cole.” The hellion's voice was low and quiet. “Were you afraid?”

 

“I… yes. Afraid I’d be sent back to earth. That I wouldn’t see you again.”

 

Megatron’s frown deepened, brow furrowed in thought. “Afraid I wouldn’t come?”

 

“No.”

 

Knowing full well the carnage he left in his wake upon trying to retrieve his human, the mechs scarlet gaze was dark as it met Cole’s eyes. “...of me?”

 

The human grasped the collar about his own neck. “ _Never_.”

 

The mech drummed his digits against the bedspread as the cool mask of indifference slipped. Megatron couldn't quite meet Cole's gaze anymore. He held open his arms to the human and hoped he knew what he was asking of him.

 

Cole didn’t _need_ to be told. He climbed up into the mechs lap and wrapped his arms around his helm.

 

Silver arms and black servos wrapped around the young man in the tightest embrace he felt he could give. He didn’t need to talk, his demand for contact was enough.

 

The human adjusted himself and pressed upward so he was pressed as much against the mech as he could get, Then, he gently pressed back against his left audio. Cole leaned down, his chest pressed to Megatron's helm. He didn't say a thing or move, just held himself there to let his heartbeat thump against his flesh. The blonde was well aware that Megatron had a thing for his heartbeat, his life force. If it made his master feel better, he'd give him a good listen.

 

Megatron wrapped the young man into a tight hug and let out a sigh against his collarbone. Servos massaged the familiar flesh and stroked platinum waves of hair. To think he’d almost- or could have- _no_. That was over. His optics flickered slightly, and he allowed himself to be held. Cole was safe, he was unafraid, he was back where he belonged.

 

Tinswitch and Wiretap could wait. Just for a while.

 

/

 

Sometime later, Megatron emerged, full sized and glaring. Much as he'd love an orn with Cole, he had a femme to educate, and a new recruit to examine.

 

Wiretap stood at the end of the hall, at attention, as instructed. The silver hellion's frown deepened as the mech flinched when he drew close. “Wiretap, correct?”

 

Wiretap nodded, optics downcast. “Yes, s-lord. Yes, lord.”

 

The silver mech glared. “Autobot protocols still run through you. I desire proof of your loyalty.”

 

“Whatever you wish, lord.”

 

Megatron stepped into an offset elevator and stepped to one side for Wiretap to follow. "You don't seem the kind to interrogate."

 

The door slid shut. “I prefer psychology.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Makes it easier to understand just what scares someone the most. What’s worst to handle on their own.” His servos twitched. “The needles let me view and alter a memory. If I know their fears, I can practically insert those fears into anywhere I want.”

 

The lights of the elevator flickered between nothing and indigo as floors passed by. The Decepticon Warlord glanced down at the rather small mech. “What’s stopping you from using those on someone like myself?”

 

Wiretap shrugged. “Well, one, Cole talked about you like you were the best thing since rust sticks. Two, I could reduce you to a babbling sparkling, and then what, face the wrath of the crew?” Lacing his digits before him, he sighed. “No. I will know my place. I intend to use _my_ tools however _you_ deem fit. You are my lord.”

 

The elevator stopped in an area just below the cargo hold. A space of twenty little habsuites, one with a light under the door, was what greeted them.

 

Megatron said nothing as he left the elevator, Wiretap following behind a few paces back.

 

The two stopped before the backlit door. The Decepticon warlord stared the gray-green mech down. “You have one klik to prove you’re worth keeping online.” Pressing the doors console, the door creaked up into the ceiling, revealing a small room and an operating table.

 

Strapped to it was a lucid Tinswitch. The mech stepped into the small space, eyeing the amassed devices on either side of the table. All the femme saw was a familiar faceplate, and she scrambled to get up from her strapped down position.

 

“Finally, a face I know! What’s happened to the crew? Are you alright?”

 

Wiretap smiled warmly down at the femme. “Well, dear, crew’s offline. Not much for it, seeing it’s your fault.”

 

“What?” She squeaked out, optics wide.

 

“Yes, that’s what happens to those that steal, I guess.”

 

“Let me go!" She tugged at her restraints but found no relief. "Please! You have to help me!"

 

The gray-green mech sighed. "I might if you can tell me something. It's important, probably the most important question of your life."

 

“What is it?” Her optics glowed near white in the darkness, hope sparkling in them.

 

“What’s my name?”

 

Her faceplate was a mix of confusion and fear. “What?”

 

“What’s my name?” He rapped his digit tips against her helm gently, slowly, optics watching her intently. “Three chances. I’m waiting, Tinswitch.”

 

“Needles!” Her faceplate shone with pride and hope, her grin nervous. “Needles, right? Our interrogator-”

 

“Wrong.” A needle slipped free of his index digit. “Try again.”

 

“Uh, it’s… it’s… uh...” Panic flooded her systems. “Wiresnap?”

 

A second needle emerged. “Mm, no. Last chance.”

 

“Please, just let me go! I won’t tell anyone! I-”

 

Wiretap’s optics remained on hers. “Last chance, Tinswitch.”

 

“I… it's… Wiretap?"

 

He frowned, and all the needles of his left servo emerged. Tinswitch shrieked at the sight.

 

“Nope.” Sliding his servo under her helm, he slid his needles under her neck plating with a soft sigh, optics going dark. “Oh well. Too bad.” His servo withdrew just as slowly as it had entered, and his optics flickered back on to bright red. “Ta-da. With several nanokliks to spare,” he drawled, before bowing to Megatron still in the doorway.

 

The mech groaned, glowering at Wiretap. “What good is an unconscious culprit?”

 

“Oh, no, she'll be wide awake in a klik, and she'll feel everything." Wiretap withdrew his needles and smiled slightly. "But now, she ‘remembers' hearing the Autobot medic talking about how a stasis bomb causes permanent paralysis. Poor glitch can't do more than lie there and scream."

 

Megatron’s optics glowed faintly at the implication.

 

The gray-green mech folded his arms behind his back, nodding. “I can take the modification out if-”

 

“This will do.” Megatron strode into the room. He frowned at the smaller mech. “Now get out.” He’d call when he was done with the femme. So many tools to pick from, so much wrath to take out, and all the time he wanted to do as he wished.

 

The door slid shut.

 

Wiretap only got a call back from his new leader half an orn later, with a short list of equipment to bring.

 

Really, he could hardly wait.

 

/

 

Not much time passed before a message made it to Autobot HQ. The location was impossible to trace, everything but the footage itself being scrubbed completely clean. The transmission was short, but the point it made was incredibly clear in the thirty-some kliks it was broadcast to the gathered Primes, along with Ultra Magnus.

 

A femme's faceplate filled the screen. Her optics flickered as they read from a teleprompter. "My name was Tinswitch, and I have a message." She gasped in pain and continued. "I caused the offlining of Helix Prime, Gearsnapper, Stripscrew, a-and myself. I stole from the l-leader of Decepticons, and he demanded what I stole back." Another, horribly wet gasp. "Bots are dead because of me. If I-" she choked, and something caused her to flinch. "If I had been a good little Autobot and not sto-sto-stolen from the Decepticons, I and m-my crew may still be online." Another flinch, and the lights dimmed. "This is my p… my _punishment_.”

 

Tinswitch shook violently and squirmed. When the camera pulled away from her faceplate, it revealed that she was nothing more than a helm on a spark chamber. A metal strap held her upright on a surgical table, dark energon staining horribly beneath. Behind her, pinned to the wall and spread wide apart was the rest of her body. Stains and warped metal made it abundantly clear that the separation of her parts was done bit by bit, down to the struts of her protoform's skeletal structure.

 

Slowly a servo, gray, thin, and tipped with mnemosurgical needles reached for her spark and swiftly snuffed it out.

 

**X**

 

**_There is whiskey in the water_ **

**_And there is death upon the vine_ **

**_And there is grace within forgiveness_ **

**_But it's so hard for me to find_ **

**_How could something so fair_ **

**_Be so cruel_ **

**_When this black sun revolved_ **

**_Around you!_ **

**_How could something so fair_ **

**_Be so cruel_ **

**_When this black sun revolved_ **

**_Around you_ **

 

**X**

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I make a playlist? I think this needs a playlist.


	5. Year 7: Putting the Dog to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human has questions, but the answers may not be worth the pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fyi: this one's gonna hurt.

**X**

 

_**Prove to me** _

_**I'm not gonna die alone** _

_**Put your arm 'round my collarbone** _

_**And open the door** _

_**Don't lie to me** _

_**If you're putting the dog to sleep** _

_**That pet you just couldn't keep** _

_**And couldn't afford** _

_**Well, prove to me** _

_**I'm not gonna die alone** _

_**Unstitch that shed-off soul** _

_**To close up the hole, that tore through my skin** _

_**Well my trust in you** _

_**Is a dog with a broken leg** _

_**Tendons too torn to beg** _

_**For you to let me back in** _

 

**X**

 

Seven years and the ‘new arrivals' were in fact, finally, arriving. Cole took his typical place in the tank of the control room, but his books were a forgotten pile of pulped wood. He was excited to see what new mechs and femmes would be coming aboard.

 

It seemed that Lugnut was as well. The hulking mech wasn't prone to nervousness, but something was going on with him.

 

“Lugnut.”

 

“What, human?” He groused. They never had gotten along. Certainly didn’t hate each other, at least as far as Cole was concerned.

 

“You good?”

 

Megatron let out a huff to his right.

 

Lugnut grumbled. “Better than good, human. Wondrous, perhaps even euphoric!” His voice boomed, causing those too close to cringe or take a step back.

 

Cole smiled softly. “Care to share?”

 

Lugnut's posture improved, a pincer to his chest plate. “Human, you are about to have the honor of seeing the most beautiful femme to grace the battlefield.”

 

Blonde brows inched upwards. Lugnut had a femme? “Do tell.”

 

Lugnut did so, awe coloring his voice. “Strika, the most powerful femme in the Decepticon legion! Brilliant strategist! A coming onslaught of terror to all who oppose our Liege. Hers is the brightest mind and cruelest spark!”

 

Cole grinned. Lugnut was easier to get along with when he had something he loved to discuss, it seemed! “And she’s coming here?”

 

“At long last." He lowered his pincers and went back to clacking them. "My _conjunx endurae_ returns with open servos."

 

Cole blinked. _Conjunx endurae?_

 

He hadn't a chance to ask as the door to the control room opened, presenting the newest group of Decepticons to join the Empirion. An eclectic bunch, it seemed. First to enter was an absolute powerhouse of deep pink and bright orange, optics set in a cold glare. The heaviest of the bunch was gray, with green and red accents and a faceplate the said ‘I will eat you if given a chance.' Behind him were two smaller mechs, one a deep purple with, oddly, rabbit ears, the other with a green glass globe over his helm. Finally was a navy and orange powerhouse with a set of red optics on his chest.

 

Megatron stood. “Strika, how fortunate to have you close by.”

 

The pink and orange behemoth spoke, voice distinctly Russian and feminine. “My lord, it is an honor to return.”

 

Wait… _that_ was Strika? Well, seemed Lugnut had a type!

 

“I’m certain your mate is as eager to see you as ever.” Megatron's grin could be heard more than seen. Strika turned her helm to the side, optics falling on a kneeling Lugnut.

 

The kneeling mech held his arms wide, pincers open. All five of his optics glowed brilliantly as he gazed upon her. “My goddess.”

 

Strika approached at a slow pace, before gripping Lugnut under the arms and _lifting him from the floor._ “My brute.” She crushed him to her in a hug that caused a creaking of metal. Someone let out a noise of disgust.

 

Cole covered his mouth to hide the grin growing across his face. “That’s so cute.”

 

Megatron gave a slight hum in agreement. Fanatical as they both were, it made them an incredible match.

 

/

 

“Shockwave, what’s a _conjunx endurae?_ ”

 

The antlered con froze. His helm swiveled to the human on his desk. “I’m sorry?”

 

Cole’s gray eyes stared back at him, curious and bright. “What’s a _conjunx endurae?_ ”

 

“Yes, I heard you, but I fail to see why you’re asking.” Turning back to his work, he gave a small shrug.

 

“Well, Lugnut-”

 

That was all it took. “Ugh. Strika?”

 

“Strika,” Cole chuckled. “Luggy’s quite the poet when he gets on about her. He probably loves her almost as much as he does Megatron.”

 

“ _As_ much, different type.” Shockwave would have rolled his optic if he could. “Both fanatics, for certain. Strika is Lord Megatrons’ General of Destruction.”

 

Cole giggled, then. “She seems nice. She lifted Lugnut off the ground when she got here!” It was the cutest thing he’d seen in his life. Few could make Lugnut look _tiny_. "But he did mention _conjunx enduraes_ , and… well, I kinda read about it in the sacred Allspark writings, but what is it exactly?"

 

Shockwave sighed. “A _conjunx endurae_ is what happens when two or more Cybertronians decide to bond parts of their sparks together, if slightly. To bond to another is to make permanent the desire to be with one another.”

 

Cole blinked. “So. You need a spark to do it.”

 

He almost felt the dashed hope in Cole’s voice and was glad he himself didn’t have a faceplate. “Not… necessarily.” Shockwave’s claws clacked across keys as he kept his tone level. Do _not_ give the boy false hope. “It has not been documented, but as unlikely as it is, we cannot know for sure.” His optic shuttered and opened completely. “A _bond_ needs a spark to spark contact. However, the transfer of emotions between spark and soul is slightly less unlikely."

 

The human said nothing, only stayed still and watched the con work.

 

The cyclopean con continued. “Do not make me regret telling you what I have, boy.”

 

“I won’t, Shockwave. Promise.” They fell silent, as they tended to do after a time. Silently, Cole wondered how strange it would be to have a spark. Deep beneath the wonder sat a disappointment at the fact that he had to live with a heartbeat.

 

/

 

“Master.”

 

The mech glanced over at him with a slightly startled expression. He set the datapad he'd been working on to one side. “Pet?” Odd. It wasn’t often that Cole used that tone on him.

 

“I’m curious about something, but I don’t know how to phrase it.” He fidgeted with his rosary. “And It’s… a sensitive topic.”

 

Leaning forward on his berth, Megatron lifted his brows. “What could be so serious?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Cole managed to utter “What are Sparks like?”

 

The mech blinked. “My own, or generally?”

 

“Whichever is easiest to explain.”

 

“Mm… I suppose it's a concentrated soul if we speak with human terms. More in one place to power the body than throughout as part of the body." He crossed one leg over the other. "A spark comes forth in two ways; via the Allspark, or by the prolonged contact of two sparks with one another." He smirked. "The first way is impossible in these times.”

 

The human nodded, brows furrowed in thought. “So… spark-to-spark is procreation, plug and port is recreation. Got it.”

 

The silver mech chuckled dryly. “Why the sudden interest?”

 

“Uh… well, I’m curious about-” Running a hand through his hair, he swallowed. “I-I mean, would it be possible for a spark to react to a human soul?” The blond raised his hands and lowered his head. “Sorry _again_ if that’s overstepping.”

 

“When has curiosity ever been an overstep?”

 

He nodded. “Fair point.”

 

The thrumming began, and the mass-displaced Megatron was inside the tank, grinning broadly at his human as he aproached. “It could at least be an interesting experiment.”

 

“Maybe? But until we actually know what’ll happen when we do it? Let’s just keep things vanilla.”

 

“Just for the experiment.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

The Decepticon hummed lowly, black digits playing idly with the platinum waves of his humans’ hair. “Did you have a time in mind?”

 

Grey eyes went wide. “Uh, were you good to go right now?” He sure seemed like he was!

 

A smoky purr against Cole’s ear. “Of course.” Proficient digits began to work at the fly of Cole’s jeans.

 

Giggling brightly, giddiness pulsing in his veins, Cole pulled off his shirt to toss it to the side of the tank and allowed himself to be backed onto the bed. A slow pull at his jeans and the young man was down to his briefs. He beamed as his master crawled over him on the bed.

 

Soft lips met firm components in a languid bout of kisses. Cole's body responded quickly. Crawling backward as his master tugged the final garment down, his erection popping free with a wobble.

 

The mech chuckled. “I’ll never grow tired of that.”

 

“I hope not.” He arched his back to feel his masters’ dark digits dig into the muscles of his back and buttocks. He loved being handled like this, being made to feel so fragile.

 

Megatrons' lower plating slid open to reveal his plug. Still holding his human close, he rubbed himself to Cole slowly.

 

“Hng, fuck," The blonde breathed, propped up on his elbows and tilting his head back to give Megatron a better angle at his neck. Cole loved getting bites.

 

The mech growled, denta raking and pinching delicately against Cole’s neck. He could feel the racing pulse of his pet against his lip components each time he planted a kiss. His glossa could almost taste his heartbeat as it skimmed the red marks and old bruises.

 

Between their chests, a new noise, dull and metallic. Megatron smiled slightly at the fact that his spark chamber even opened! It had been centuries, tens of thousands, fragging eons since it opened for another living creature! Still, it opened wide for the little human, who lifted his head and gazed at the light.

 

Bathed in the icy glow, Cole’s gaze softened in awe. “That’s… you. That’s _you_. I’m looking at a soul...” He blinked and gazed up into Megatron’s optics. “You’re beautiful.”

 

Him? Beautiful? Now _that_ was a new one. “Brace yourself, my pet,” he purred, voice laced with static but not breaking. An overload built as his spark pulsed and reached out for something familiar to latch onto.  
  
By fate, by luck, by some sort of fluke or the whims of Primus, there was a connection between Cybertronian and Earthling.

_It was chaos._

 

Flurries of circuitry and synapses, codes and chemicals latching fiercely in ways souls and sparks were never known to.  
  
Cole shrieked, entire being aware even as his fists clenched sheets and his hips bucked, his soul a spring drawn back and set loose into a void.

 

Cole plunged from great heights into the icy ocean that was Megatron. His calm linked to his intelligence and calculating way of living as if hand and glove. Calculation wove into and out of the unparalleled passion for so much of what Megatron truly was. Brilliant in mind, dangerous in body, cruel and keen and attentive and-Cole released the sheets and wrapped his arms around Megatron's helm with a resounding "Fuck fuck fuck-" as the only word his searching self could find to express how much of his master there was to take in. Delving deeper brought forth a rush of white, hot rage, and the human's soul shuddered. So much of it, a blights worth of it, all entwined with the mech he loved. Rage at the injustice of Cybertronian life, of what failures sailed his way. The blight rushed into Cole and sent him over an edge he hadn't known he teetered on.

Megatron fared no differently. No matter what he'd told himself in the even they could feel one another in such a way, he wasn't ready for the truth of Cole.Cole was vast, an open sky with a brilliant sunrise painting his soul across it in vibrant hues of curiosity, resolve, loyalty. Megatron was swallowed in the heat and brightness that was his human. The breeze of compassion and the rays of strength that were Cole were not surprising, but well welcomed. Such a bright spirit… for the moments the mech could enjoy it.The expanse of open sunrise was dampened by the chill of something harsh and unfitting for his human. It ached, it yawned like a chasm and shot past Megatron in a noisy bluster of loneliness. The chill of it broke off in clumps, giving way to something as warm and lively as the sunshine of Earth. It's depth pushed Megatron just enough to kick off an overload. _Love_ , vibrant and powerful and so much stronger than the chill that loneliness brought. If what Cole was then didn’t overwhelm him, this came close. It was so warm, so bright and potent and welcoming that when a newer, darker cold cut it off, it cracked against his being like a whip.

 

Slow, crawling and dark, a cloudburst of something _worse_ than loneliness.

 

Worthlessness. Blunt and brutal. An oncoming storm that encompassed everything that his human was. An enemy he could not subdue, fight, or kill.

 

One of the pair screamed from the truth of everything they shared. Neither knew which.

 

Spark and soul drew apart. Static zapped gently between them, the only sounds now heavy, shaking pants.

  
The silver hellion’s overload tapered off in a slow ebbing of emotions. His own passion feeding into Cole’s desire, his own dominance tugging at the submission natural to the human before him, his desire twining with Cole’s potent, audacious love.  
  
“Y-you-” Megatron shuddered down to his struts. His chest plates swung open as his inner plates slid closed painfully slow. Cole was in love with him, and that love was bottomless to the point it was excruciating. “Spark’s _sake_ , Cole."When Cole looked up through his bangs, his eyes were red and glassy. Tears were damp against his cheeks, and his breath heaved from his own orgasm and the truths they interchanged. Megatron did not love him, but he loved Megatron. The mech remained silent as the depth of what they'd shared clicked. Cole was _his_. _He_ was not Cole’s. Cole knew it, it was hurting him, and he didn’t _say anything_. Felt he had _no right_ to claim the force of nature that was Megatron. Felt _unworthy_ , yet the need was unyielding. Rusting him away from the inside.  
  
He was Cole’s master, and he didn’t know how awful that felt. For eight years, Megatron fooled himself. He knew _nothing_ of the depth of Cole's love. All Cole did to please his needs was not the desperate ache of a young creature searching for meaning. It was the plea of a broken child who'd wreck himself to feel even the slightest bit of affection-Megatron felt sick to his struts.

Under him, Cole choked out a sob. Instinctively, the mech rolled away from him and sat on the berth.“I didn’t think-” The blond covered his eyes with balled fists, teeth grit. “-you’d see that deep into me!” His whole body shuddered. “Christ Almighty, I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He quickly rolled to avoid the scarlet gaze he knew he’d have to face soon enough. “Don’t look at me, please. Please, fuck, I’m sorry!”

 

Megatron closed his chest plates with a curled fist, feeling them seal shut. “Cole,” he tried, but he human covered his head, shaking. The Decepticon released an uneasy growl. He was at an utter loss on this! A feeling he despised! He knew aftercare, kinks, hard and soft rules down to a science. He did not know _this_.

 

Cole drew a breath that sputtered out half way. “Is this it? Is this how this ends?”

 

Megatron’s gaze remained blank, yet his processor raced. He despised not knowing just how to fix something. This something happened to be his human, and that made it worse.

 

“Please, I'm begging you. J-just do something, master. Please." He begged but could not turn to face Megatron, like a good pet should. He managed to roll onto his stomach in a crouch, a bow but kept his face hidden. "I overstepped my bounds, _please_ ,” Cole would take anything so long as he knew he was forgiven for his feelings. “Hit me, beat me, shoot me, anything but silence! Please!” He curled tighter into himself, and whimpered, “Kill me, just don’t throw me away.”

 

Cole honestly felt he needed to be punished? "Cole." His voice was calm, firm, the voice he used for their plays when the human needed a reminder. Lightly, Megatron smoothed a servo down Cole's back. Their tool for sensory deprivation was favorable to language, it seemed. He couldn't find words, but he had his servos. He didn't need to speak, only comfort. This he could do.

 

Gingerly taking one of Cole’s bent legs between his hands, he unfurled the human to lay on his stomach. Still taking time to stroke the feverish flesh now and then, the human was soon in a far less frightened position. The Decepticon reminded himself that this was not the first time Cole grew overwhelmed during sex. It did little to clear the thoughts in his processor, but he could work out what to do about that later.

 

Pulling the pillow under him to hug, Cole refused to look up unless asked. Too frightened. Too much at once. Too much revealed. “Master-”

 

“Quiet." No talking just yet. Words were failing him, touch, for now, was all he could do. Cole obeyed, doing his best to repress his sobs. Megatron reminded himself, to keep his resolve as steady as it needed to be, _it’s happened before. It will happen again. This is aftercare._ Emotional aftercare was harder than physical, but he had a role to fill. Give and take, harm and heal. His servos pressed into Cole's back with enough pressure to smooth him out. The tension was thick in his muscles, but it was fading.

 

Cole’s physical well-being was helping with his emotional state, but not enough. This wasn't the outcome Megatron expected, but he could work with it. He didn't have a choice. He knew devotion, what Shockwave gave him with his undying loyalty to the Decepticon cause. He knew worship, what Lugnut gave him with his constant praise and physical displays. He knew fear, what most underlings gave him and tried not to show. He knew hate, so very well, when an enemy or traitor raised their worthless helm and dared defy him.

 

He did not know _love_.

 

Megatron did not know what to do with this tiny, pale human who was breaking down under his gaze. Their expected-to-fail attempt to merge made it clear that there was a severe problem with their relationship; they wanted the other for _very_ different reasons.

 

Still, one did want the other.

 

Cole wrenched his head up if only to get himself air. “Fuck me, I can’t breathe.”

 

“That’s how we landed here, isn’t it?” Megatron rested his servo across Cole’s shoulders, now sitting with his back against the tank wall.

 

“Y-yeah… yeah, it is.” The young man shuddered with a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

 

Megatron blinked. "What for? Your idea brought forth something never before experienced; spark and soul merged. Unheard of." He didn't mention the unbridled intensity of the overload it brought, nor just how luminous and accepting Cole's soul was to merge with.

 

“I… I…” The syllable stretched into a whine that brought a horrible bout of sobbing. Composure was a long ways away. “You went so far into me! I didn’t know it would be like that!” His world funneled down to the metal hand still splayed across his back. Cole’s voice shook, his insides shattered like ice. “I didn’t want… you to know.”

 

The silver hellion frowned from worry. “Know what?” His servo trailed up to stroke the platinum hair. There was nothing like human hair on Cybertron, and he took great pleasure in its softness and warmth. “Know _what?_ ”

 

Cole shrank, prompting Megatron to pull his servo away and wait.

 

“That I’m… in…” He drew a breath and whispered into the empty space between himself and the mattress. “In love with you.”

 

“...ah." The crux of the whole ordeal. "I'm not _appalled_ if that's what you think." He gave a light shrug that rocked the berth, yet Cole was frozen in place, still. "We do need to discuss this."

 

“I can’t.”

 

“We must." If they were going to have anything, this had to be fixed. "Seeing that you're…" A complete wreck with so much self-loathing it could take out a warship if _weaponized?_ “...indisposed, I’ll start.” Much better. Megatron stretched out, careful not to nudge his human. “Yes. I did see you. I felt you, who and what and why. The _how_ is where I’m lost.”

 

“...lost," Cole muttered.

 

“Yes. I fail to see how our activities turned into love. I also fail to understand how you can crave me and feel unworthy of me.” He drummed black digits across his knee plating. “You’re going to have to explain at some point, and I’m not in the mood to move, Cole.”

 

“I can’t!”

 

Megatron growled as his patience wore to its last threads. “ _Explain_.”

 

“Fine!” The human lurched upwards, propping himself onto balled fists. The raw heartbreak on his face sent a fresh wave of distress to the silver hellions' spark.

 

Cole swallowed and spoke with a voice made of splintered glass. "I already know how dangerous this is! I've almost died so many times since I met you!" He choked but kept going. "But no matter what, you protect me. What do you do for me? _Anything_. What do I do for you? _Nothing_ . I have _nothing_ to give but my body, and you can’t have it without holding back!” His head dropped, arms shaking. He finally had momentum enough to bleed out this stupidity of his, and all he wanted to do still was cry. “So I give it. I love it. I love how you could snap me but don’t. I love how well you take care of me when it’s over. I love how you listen and let me play at being in charge, how you confide small things, how you _never_ forget me-” Tears streamed down his face, but he did not buckle. “So I pretended for a while, that that was enough, b-because I’m expendable. I’m a _toy_. If I’m not fun to play with, I'll get thrown away." Cole sniffed and sat up fully to fight the urge to scream. "Toys shouldn't love."

 

Few could say they’d seen Megatron at a loss for words, let alone claim to be the cause. The only sounds in the room were Cole’s ragged gasps. The man hid behind a platinum curtain of hair, but the pain was obvious, and it wasn't fading. His protective delusion was shattered and left him in free fall with no promise that anyone would catch him.

 

Megatron _knew_. He'd felt Cole's love for him, and it was so bright and full… but he didn't give Cole _that_ feeling in return. There was nothing there for the human to bask in but what Megatron offered. He could not offer what wasn't there.

 

However… an idea curled like smoke from the ashes of a bonfire.

 

He needed to talk. If Cole broke down crying again -which he was in fact fully anticipating- during it, then he’d power through. The hellion found his voice soon enough. “I failed you, then.”

 

The human’s breathing hitched.

 

Power _through_. “Were I a better mech, I’d have seen this before it festered.”

 

“It’s not your f-”

 

“Quiet." He felt the bubbling anger at the accusations Cole made, but wrath was not his mood. How could Cole have known if he never said? "My needs for interface can, in fact, be met by any willing party. I could have near anyone on this ship throw themselves down and present themselves if I asked it." Experimentally, he lay his servo back onto the human's back. When Cole shuddered, he let it rest there. "Yet I do not. Since taking you as my pet, I've had no interest in others."

 

Cole wanted to mention his conversation with Shockwave, but the thought filed itself away quickly.

 

“It's trust if you could believe it. Anyone else could offline me if I gave them a chance. You had that chance just now, and yet..." On the rare times he let Cole crack the whip, it was amazing. Megatron's rare cravings for pain were met with wickedness that Cole provided with gusto. "Vulnerability isn't for anyone but who I deem worthy." His servo snaked down to Cole's head and turned him gently as to force him to look into his optics. "You would not _be_ here if you weren’t _worthy_ , Cole.”

 

That broke him fully. Cole pressed into the black servo and lay his own over it to hold it in place and sobbed.

 

“I’ve drawn blood and left bruises, but you love it. I love seeing my handiwork on your body, and only _your_ body." Megatron clasped his free servo to Cole's shoulder, to steady him if only a bit. "But you found no love within me for you. You had a moon worth for me. It is not that I don't love you. It is that… hmm…" How in the pit was he supposed to put this?

 

“I _know_ you don’t.” The blond whimpered. “D-don’t lie to me, _please_.”

 

“You were searching for something that wasn’t there because it never crossed my processor.” He shuttered his optics and let out a tired sigh. “I never believed anyone _could_ love me. Who could? The monster in the shadows, the tyrant, the horror in bedtime stories told to sparklings to keep them in line.” Megatron’s silver helm met damp hair. “Yet you fell in love with me, knowing of that? Knowing who and what I am? Impossible. I never dreamed it.”

 

“Do you love _anything?_ ” Cole rasped.

 

“War, conquest, the games we play, destruction… but a person? Now that is difficult. How you sat on your love for so long without snapping is a feat in and of itself. I’m impressed.” He chuckled, servos idly rubbing warmth back into the human’s chilled flesh.

 

Cole nodded softly. “I _think_ this counts as snapping.”

 

“Maybe, but not to me,” he continued, opening his optics to Cole’s face. While his eyes were shut, tears still leaked. “Relationships aren’t my forte, but they cross my thoughts. How they form never went the route we take, however. Still… I’m willing.”

 

“What are you saying, Master?”

 

“ _No_ , no masters and pets right now. Call me by my name.”

 

“M...Megatron, what are you saying?”

 

The silver hellion didn’t feel nervousness, because there was no fear of any rejection from Cole. Just love. “I don’t love you… _yet_.” He smiled at his human. “But I’m willing to learn.”

 

The human let out a shuddering breath that left him sagging in the mech’s grip. “Thank God you didn’t say it can’t happen. That’d kill me.”

 

Megatron’s grip adjusted to hold Cole’s head in both hands. “You’re worthy of my berth and my care. Why _not_ my spark?”

 

“I’ll be dead in sixty years.”

 

“Unless we find a solution, I suppose." He would undoubtedly search for one, at least!

 

“My lifespan is _bullshit_. I’ve already got a quarter century behind me.”

 

A truth he hated to think of. “True.”

 

“Is it worth it?” Cole finally opened his eyes. They were red and swollen but still so wonderfully gray.

 

“Indeed you are." With that, Megatron placed a soft kiss on Cole's hairline. "Now then, let us get you cleaned up, eh?"

 

The human nodded mutely.

 

Finally, the part of aftercare he excelled in! Retrieving a bottle of water and a soft towel from the fridge-stand, he passed the items to Cole. When the human did nothing more than stare at the items, Megatron uncapped the water quickly.

 

“Thanks." Cole took a sip, before pressing his face into the towel. He was pretty sure he was cried out or at least had it under control. "It's funny, I guess."

 

The Decepticon tilted his helm down, signaling to Cole to proceed.

 

“I was in love with you, even after you tortured me. I needed a strong, male force in my life. Never expected you to want to have me.”

 

“Just what did you expect?”

 

Cole shrugged. “Dunno. Shoot me, I guess?”

 

The mech delicately ruffled his hair. “A waste of ammo, I can assure you.”

 

“What’s worse, when I got abducted by the Autobots? I told them you loved me.” His eyes were downcast as he muttered the next words, almost as if he were still scared to speak. “Some loudmouth said that Decepticons didn’t _love_. It got to me, I guess.”

 

Megatron slid a servo under Cole’s chin, tilting his head to look him in the optics. “I suppose I’m going to have to prove them wrong once more.”

 

**X**

 

_**You said I can't prove to you** _

_**You're not gonna die alone** _

_**But trust me to take you home** _

_**To clean up that blood all over your paws** _

_**You can't keep running out** _

_**Kicking yourself off the bed** _

_**Kicking yourself in the head** _

_**Because you're kicking me too** _

_**Put your trust in me** _

_**I'm not gonna die alone** _

_**Put your trust in me** _

_**I'm not gonna die alone** _

_**I don't think so** _

_**Put your trust in me** _

_**I'm not gonna die alone** _

_**Put your trust in me** _

_**I'm not gonna die alone** _

_**I don't think so** _

 

**X**


	6. Year 9: Panic Switch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A background mech makes a fatal mistake.

**Year 9: Panic Switch**

 

**X**

**_Time_  
_It's never worth my time_  
_Blue shine bleeds into my eyes_  
_I still_  
_Sleep on the right side_  
_Of the white noise_  
_Can't leave the scene behind_  
_Could I be anything you want me to be?_  
_It's always meant to be seen_  
_When you see yourself in a crowded room,_  
_Do your fingers itch? Are you pistol-whipped?_  
_Will you step in line or release the glitch?_  
_Can you fall asleep with a panic switch?_  
**

**X**

 

Firetrap had _issues_. Lots of them. Anyone with half a working processor would know it. Slim and cruel, with an inherent need to fight, his friends were few, and his enemies fewer. Who'd give such a downright aggressive flirt the time of day? He was always either off in the medical wing for physical injuries, or he was in the bar for mental ones.

 

The rust-colored mech wasn't the smallest or the weakest, or most liked or even most loathed. He wasn't _anything_ , and it burned him alive inside. If he were tiny, he could finagle a way to use it to his advantage and become powerful in spite of his size. If he were the weakest, he'd put effort into honing his –often overlooked- intellect. If he were the crew favorite, he'd use that for his needs and work his way up further with his charms. If he were the most hated and despised of the whole lot, then he'd wear that as a badge of honor and be the scummiest little glitch he could be.

 

But Firetrap was not _anything_. He was simply Firetrap.

 

That little truth burned him alive inside. Because by Primus, being just Firetrap wasn’t ever going to be enough. He had to be something to someone, anyone. Even if he was a nuisance, a pest, a minor inconvenience, Firetrap was more than just Firetrap!

 

When he burned alive inside like this, an inferno trapped in a smallish shell, he provoked. Words, then fists, just depended on who and what he was dealing with and feeling. He could not and would not be ignored.

 

Slapper, dumb as a broken rust stick, was often the first to tell him off for being a glitch. At first, in a dying wave of hope, the rust-colored mech thought it was due to being his friend, or caring even slightly about his well being. The hulking mech told the mech off well one orn, and made his feelings clear even if his accent wasn’t. “Shut it, bruv. Yer killin’ me audios.”

 

He made sure to screech even louder around the idiot mech after that.

 

It wasn't only Slapper, though. Hoverbolt gave him a good old fashion dressing down when he'd tried to flirt one time too many… meaning once. All she had to say was ‘no,' and he'd… nah, he'd keep pressing her to get his way. Turns out that skinny little femme was a great shot. His skidplate was in the medical wing for a solid two orns from her alone.

 

Wiretap threatened to erase all of his good memories if he didn’t get out of his bubble. Strika scoffed when he challenged her to a fight, up and backhanded him across the room like he was nothing! Cyclonus didn’t even acknowledge him until he knocked the oil from his servo, and he received a horn to the optic to show for it!

 

His witty banter was ignored, and his quick moves were bunk. So, there he was again, on his third can of low-grade oil and _seething_. Orn in and orn out, the same slag over and over.

 

Firetrap was fantastic, and these slaggers were too up their own ports to see him.

 

Maybe that’s how he ended up at Megatron’s chamber door. He didn’t know why, but he knew he could figure out the console. Lord Megatron was discussing something with Strika at the moment. He’d be gone for a while, perfect for… something, he was sure. Plenty of time to do… stuff.

 

Several slaps and shouts at the console later, the door opened. Nobody home. Great!

 

Well, somebody. A blond human. Lord Megatron’s loyal pet. Little thing was just sitting there in a chair with a… thing? He was holding a thing and staring at it. It looked like two rectangles connected on the long end, with hundreds of thin sheets in between.

 

Firetrap didn’t know the word book. Or the matter of knocking.

 

Cole’s head shot up, before glaring. “The fuck are you doing?” He set the book on the floor and stood. He bared his teeth and took the stance of a man about to bolt. “Get out!”

 

“Aw, I jus… just wanna say hi, human.” Firetrap slurred, his grin lazy and bordering on cruel. “Come on, don’t you wanna say hi to the best mech on the ship?”

 

Cole glared. “This is Megatron’s room. How’d you even get in here? That console is locked.”

 

A servo to his chest plate and the mech took a bow. He wobbled feebly on his pedes but kept his optics on Cole. "I am… a master of breaking into rooms, y'know?" Standing, servo on the edge of Megatron's berth, the rust-colored mech strode towards the tank.

 

Cole stepped back and away from the mech, his back to the kitchenette. He slid his hand to the edge of it, pressing in the small panel to the side of the sink with a soft click. “Either way, you need to get out.”

 

“Aw, pet, don’t be like that!” Firetrap cackled before stumbling over. His helm pressed to the tank. Particles of ion danced about his sneering visage. “What kinda pet are you?”

 

Cole stayed well away, hoping that this idiot would just get bored and leave him alone. “The loyal kind who does as told, moron.” The fuckable kind as well!

 

“If you ain't-a pleasure pet, why's you wearing a collar?"

 

Cole did not answer.

 

The carmine mech chuckled, ending in a wet cough. “Nah. Too small for that, unless Megatron has a weird kink-”

 

“Don't talk about my master like that!" He wasn't a kink or a toy, Megatron said so! Megatron wouldn't lie about that… right? If their heart to spark meant anything, then-

 

“Aw, I touch a nerve, gasbag?” On that word, Firetrap slid a servo to the buttons of the tank, fumbling at them until the ion barrier came down. He was still grinning as he reached into the tank.

 

Dodging with a bellyflop and a roll, Cole cried out, “You fucking moron! Get out!”

 

Firetrap bounced on his pedes to grab the human, a comical sight if said human weren't terrified. He was laughing softly as he tried over and over to catch him off the ground. "C'mon! Lemme pet ya!"

 

“Fuck off!”

 

“I’ll go away if ya let me pet ya!” He walked around the tank on wobbly pedes, still jumping to better grab the human. He missed, time and again, until he quite suddenly didn’t.

 

The blond's face and torso were slammed by cold steel, and he was sent backward into his bookcase. Something wet ran into an eye, and everything went dark for a second.

 

Firetrap froze. The human wasn't moving and was leaking crimson from its helm. "Wakey wakey, gasbag." If he knew it'd be that easy to kill off the pet, he'd have tried it sooner! His intoxicated thoughts raced as the human started to move once more. "Yeesh, you're fragile as a sparkling! How's he even fuck ya?" Why would Megatron want a pet so breakable? He'd make a better pet. He'd love that! The whole crew would love him! Megatron would love him! Everyone would love him if he were the pet to their lord! Firetrap the Pet was better than Firetrap the nothing! At least, Firetrap thought it worked like that.

 

Cole heaved a heavy breath and focused in on something behind Firetrap's helm. His good eye widened in relief. "Shockwave."

 

Firetrap craned his helm backward, only to find purple darkness and a slender, outraged mech behind him.

 

Hovering above the rust-colored mech, solo optic a blazing fire, the antlered con loomed like an angel of death. “Boy.”

 

The human swallowed and pointed to the suddenly terrified mech who'd made him bleed. "Fuck him up."

 

Keen claws grasped the mech by a servo and pede and ripped them asunder like wet tissue. While Firetrap's pede held firm, his servo was loose and flung to the side with a crunch of metal and splutter of fluid. He was dropped to the floor.

 

Shockwave speared the mech through the chest, sparks, and energon spraying about as the mech screamed. With his other clawed servo, he lifted the mech into the air and slammed him with all his weight. "You have made a grievous mistake." Still pinning Firetrap to the floor, he gripped his helm and forced him to look at the human in the tank. "Look at who ordered your demise." Pulling the helm and chassis taught against each other, the antlered con tugged as slowly as he could, optic ablaze at the mechs screams and his audacity. To threaten something that gave his lord delight was atrocious and would be penalized accordingly.

 

The groan of metal and wire quickly gave way to the snapping of wiring and a splattering of energon and lubricant. The mech pinned under Shockwave flailed once and went still as his armor faded to dull, gunmetal gray. The con gave another, harsh tug, and the helm came loose. Slowly, seething despite his blankness, he zeroed in on Cole. "Boy," he asked softly, speech synthesizer humming from anger. "are you badly damaged?"

 

The safety gave him bravery. Cole giggled madly as adrenaline pulsed through his body and pointed at the Decepticon torn apart on the floor. "That motherfucker missed the memo!"

 

“Jokes while you’re bleeding? How very _you_.” Bent to one knee, he watched the human cautiously. “Can you run a diagnostic?”

 

“N… no, Shockwave. I'm made out of meat." The male felt his face gently and smirked. "But nothing's _broken_. I’ll clean myself up-”

 

“Negative.” Pressing his claws to the tank floor in an attempt to seem smaller, the antlered mech muttered. “Lord Megatron is on his way now. He will tend to you.”

 

Cole winced. “But he’s _busy_.”

 

“He will want to know the damage caused to you. Now, wait here and _behave_. I have an example to make." He picked the helm from the floor and headed to the bar. If anyplace was to be where a point was to be made, it was there.

 

The doors parted for him, but he paid no heed to the mass of intoxicated Decepticons. Lifting himself on his pedes to be the tallest in the room paid off. Silence reigned as he stood, a helm in one claw.

 

Shockwave held out the helm of Firetrap, the massacred gray metal aloft for all to see. Calming himself, he called out over the crowd, “In case it was not _clear_ , only those deemed worthy are allowed to handle Lord Megatron’s pet.” He dropped the helm to the floor, optic aglow. “Let this miserable glitch be an example of those who do not listen carefully.” Giving a swift kick to the helm, the antlered bot returned to his favored height. He exited as swift as he could, and making sure there was no one nearby, he headed for lord Megatron’s chambers.

 

Meanwhile, at a size easier to accommodate Cole’s needs, Megatron set to work. Holding the blond’s head in his servos, the hellion examined his pet with squinted optics. “I suppose it looks worse than it is. Still, unacceptable.”

 

Cole shrugged. “It hurts, but I’ve had worse.”

 

“From me?”

 

“Nah. It’s a different kinda hurt when you do it. But my mom had a hell of a left hook, and Bibles hurt when you throw them.”

 

“Mm..." Pulling a servo away, the mech lifted a cotton swab with forceps and dabbed it into alcohol. "Be still." Pecking at the wound, rust-colored blood came away. While the human winced, he obeyed.

 

Shockwave entered the room and froze.

 

Megatron noted him but did not look from his human. "Get the door, Shockwave."

 

Uncertain but brave, Shockwave approached the tank. “My liege.” He took a knee, glancing up at the suddenly far smaller mech. “I… am unsure how to respond to you being this size.”

 

Cole smiled brightly, even as his eye was being checked out. “Honestly, I didn’t know how to handle it the first time, either.”

 

That… helped a little. “Ah.”

 

The blond lay a hand on his master’s forearm. “Can I tell him?”

 

“I see no reason why not, so long as you hold _still_.”

 

“Yes, master. Well!” Cole’s gray gaze went to the floor of his tank. “It was years ago. Almost a… what was it? Decivorn?”

 

“Yes. Well done.”

 

“Thanks. So back on Earth, Lord Megatron had an idea. He’d keep me, but I’d have to answer to Pet, and I’d have to call him Master-ow!” Cole frowned at said master, bad eye closed. “I think that one’s good.”

 

Scrutinizing it further, the mech nodded. “Agreed.” Taping the wound shut, Megatron focused on the blood under Cole’s nose. “Do proceed.”

 

“A'ight. Uh… Well, he gave me the collar, and said,” He cleared his throat and did his best impersonation, “Should you decide that this is not ideal, I will let you go... and Shockwave will return you to the humans.”

 

The silver and red mech paused to lift a brow. “Is _that_ what I sound like?”

 

“I can’t impersonate for shit.” Not his fault he was a tenor!

 

Shockwave nodded his agreement.

 

“Well, anyway. I handed him this collar, like, so he’d put it on me.”

 

The Decepticon warlord nodded and swapped out the darkened cotton for a fresh ball. “I believed he was turning my offer down.”

 

The human chuckled. “As if. Well, anyway. He slipped it around my neck, closed the latch, and here I am-”

 

“Attacked by some idiot who can't follow his lords' instructions."

 

“Here’s hoping he’s the last.”

 

Megatron set the used supplies aside, but still held Cole's head in one servo. Optics half-lit in the tank, he hummed quietly in dismay. "Not quite."

 

Cole blinked, eyes widening a bit. “Oh. So… the crew _doesn’t_ like me.” It stung, but what could he do?

 

Shockwave stood, optic shuttering to a pinprick. “Most of them are indifferent to you. Few are outspoken about their disapproval.” Those who were tended to cloister in darker corners to avoid being heard, but the antlered con heard them very well. “Firetrap was among them. Those with a positive opinion of you are greater than those who don’t by and large.”

 

Cole settled a hand onto Megatron’s servo, eyes to the floor in thought. “Well… I _can_ name a few members I get along with." Drumming his fingers against the cool metal, he continued. "I know for a fact Blitzwing does, or at least two-thirds of him do. Lemme think… oh! Hoverbolt is pretty funny. Cyclonus is pretty chill. He's not a talker, but he answers simple questions."

 

Megatron withdrew from his pet, dubious. “What of Wiretap?”

 

The blond stared. “Who is- Oh! Yeah! He’s nice. If anyone should get the okay to lug me around, it’d be him and Hoverbolt.”

 

“Former Autobots. Why am I not surprised?”

 

Cole smiled at the mech. “I think Autobots have a thing for small creatures. I once saw one lose his mind over a millipede.”

 

Shockwave shuttered his optic. “Earth has the strangest creatures.”

 

Megatron glanced to his SIC. “Shockwave.”

 

“My liege.”

 

“Take the shell to the bar. Let them appreciate the rest of your handiwork.”

 

Extending a servo to reach across the room, he gripped the shell of Firetrap and pulled it to him before leaving with it dragging behind.

 

The doors shut, and Megatron growled. “That rusty idiot is fortunate he met Shockwave and not myself.”

 

Cole shrugged. “Well… he’s dead. So… you can go back to your conversation with Sticker if you want to-”

 

“You could have died. _Strika_ can wait,” said the mech in a grim tone.

 

“Master. You have a job to do. I’m fine!”

 

The illusion of calm disintegrated. “You are _not fine!_ ” He gripped Cole’s head between his servos, thumbs to the humans cheeks. “By the Allspark, you really don’t comprehend how delicate you are, do you, pet?”

 

Cole’s gray eyes darkened with his frown as well as his concussion. “I am well aware. You beat the shit out of me because I like it and it’s fine, but when someone else does it-”

 

The mech growled low, denta bared. “ _You belong to me._ No one else is allowed to do what I do to you. No one." No one else knew how to take care of him after the fun and flogging was over. No one knew how he liked to be held afterward, or how he was fine screaming for blows but still so timid asking for certain amounts of affection.

 

Soft, organic hands gripped his wrists. “Master. I’m okay. I am.” He winced a little as he smiled, eyebrow stinging under the bandage. “I mean, like… if you need to reclaim your pet, I get it, but-”

 

The mech’s optics widened, brow plates arching. “You truly think I’d want an overload after some idiot tried to offline you?”

 

“It’s not like Firebutt did! Not like I’d… I’d… huh.” Cole grimaced. “I don’t know. I just know you’re angry. Sometimes you wanna fuck when you’re mad. I’m kinda, heh, kinda scrambled right now.”

 

The mech hummed. Alright then, Cole was, in fact, experiencing some delirious behavior. Leaving him alone wouldn't suffice, and he wasn't about to leave his General of Destruction out on a limb like that. "I've an idea, pet."

 

“All ears.”

 

“Come with me to the war room.” At the horribly confused look Cole gave, he continued. “See the inner working of a growing empire.” It would also allow him to monitor any changes in Cole’s current state.

 

The human blinked. “Won’t that look odd?”

 

The mech shrugged, smirking. “Not at all. I’m simply tending to my loyal pet.” His optics narrowed. “Can’t have you all alone after getting hurt, can we?”

 

Cole swallowed. “I guess.”

 

/

 

Cole would have been right at home on Megatron's shoulder, had he any practice. He wasn’t a parrot to a pirate, he was meat and clumsiness.

 

So when Lord Megatron entered the war room to find Strika with her arms folded, he took Cole down and held him out for a closer look. “As you can see, my loyal pet has been through a rough patch.”

 

The femme hummed. “Fragile things, organics.”

 

Cole nodded, his eye already swelling shut. “Firetrap’s a dick.”

 

She scoffed. “Mouthy, aren’t you?”

 

He shrugged at her, hands to his hips. “Yeah, but I’m honest. That’s gotta count for something.”

 

“Ha. So small.”

 

Cole bared his teeth and hissed her way, earning a condescending chuckle from the femme.

 

“Fierce as well. That’s always good.” Strika straightened, optics back to Megatron. “My liege, if you’re ready to proceed.”

 

Proceed, they did. Cole had assumed it would be more boring than it appeared, but it gave him a great chance to see his master’s brilliance. He had no delusions as to how smart Megatron was, but _damn_.

 

Strika pushed a blue pyramid across the table, maybe half of Cole's height. Several shapes littered the table. "Autobot fleet 962 is comprised mostly of their typical cannon fodder. Mini-bots, compact and low-size. Likely used as a distraction from what they think is their secret weapon."

 

“Concussive equilibrium disruptor.” The silver hellion smirked the human’s way. “It can cripple a large army if used properly.”

 

Cole had laid down on the table at some point. Well out of the way of the battlefield, but still in sight of his master. Megatron needed both hands to do this, so it seemed. “Question, master.”

 

Strika rolled her optics.

 

Megatron nodded to Cole.

 

“Why do they think it’s a secret?”

 

Strika answered in a clipped tone. "Deep cover spies. Our intel is superior."

 

“Mkay.” He went back to being quiet. He closed his eyes in the war room-

 

-And woke up to Megatron lifting him up? What the hell?

 

“Pet. We’re done.”

 

“Yeah? Sorry for sleeping." He lay, prone in the mechs hand, on his stomach. Christ did his head ache.

 

The silver mech said nothing as he walked, frowning deeply in thought.

 

Cole closed his eyes, feeling the movement of the mech holding him.

 

“Still tired, pet?”

 

“Mmm.”

 

Megatron sighed darkly. "I'm having two-level authentication added to our chambers. This is the second time an idiot has tried to take something valuable from me." Two times too many. Two times more than ever should have been. His human deserved the safety of their room, let alone the space of his tanks!

 

“Mmm. Thank Shockwave. His idea.”

 

A brow lifted. “What was?”

 

Silence. A stomach rumble. “You forgot to feed me.”

 

“If anything, you forgot to eat.” Thank the Allspark he knew where the human kept his fuel. That’d be a pleasant way to make up for this oversight. Feed the human, have Oilslick check him out as he slept, have Cole waken to find him with food ready and several joors to do whatever they wanted. He smiled fondly, thumb pressing gently into the muscles of Cole’s back. Good idea, as always.

 

/

 

In the bar of the _Empirion_ , the walls were mostly bare. The random scrawl was found, mostly about who could shove what where, or who'd interfaced who. Banter was tossed about as frequently as empty oil cans and energon cubes. The bar was the meeting place, the hub of good times, the pit of fist fights and the place to chill out. It was also a place to dance when Blitzwing was in a good mood.

 

Then, Shockwave, captain buzzkill himself, came in with a massacred corpse. The fun stopped for a bit as the skinny, stuffy old bastard went on about why said mech was massacred.

 

Said corpse was left to the devices of the drunk crew.

 

When the rowdier mechs were done treating this unknown corpse's helm like a football, the helm was passed around for a different brand of kicks. A femme slid her hand into the throat and puppeted the helm like a dummy. It got a laugh or two. A burly mech gripped the helm in one servo and proceeded to hump it furiously. That got a round of boos and a cube thrown. The ensuing brawl was a sight to behold, and would probably be topped in a few more shots of oil.

 

The body itself was stuffed out of the nearest airlock, but the helm? The helm sat on the bar for a couple of solar cycles. It had become part of the décor, dull and gray, horrified and in pain, it kinda worked for the dark bar of the ship. How it got, there was easily forgotten. No one was sober enough to remember to begin with.

 

Then, Wiretap knocked it over after a playful shove sent him flying. He’d extended his needles to pluck it from the floor, and was met with some _painfu_ l last moments from the deadhead. Funny, he didn't know he could see the memories of the dead.

 

Oh well.

 

A spot welder and a boost from Slapper later, he'd added something that the barkeep couldn't help but approve of. Fellow patrons laughed or groaned at the sight. Someone splashed oil on the faceplate, earning jeers and hollers from the crowd.

 

Eight words carved into a titanium plaque underneath answered any question as to why there was a helm welded to the back wall of the bar.

 

_Don’t be this glitch. Don’t touch The Pet._

 

No one was sure who the glitch on the wall was. Whoever the mech had been, he made a quality example of what _not_ to do.

 

**X**

**  
_I'm waiting and fading and floating away_  
_Waiting and fading and floating away_  
_Waiting and fading and floating away_  
_Waiting and fading and flailing and fading_  
_When you see yourself in a crowded room,_  
_Do your fingers itch? Are you pistol-whipped?_  
_Will you step in line or release the glitch?_  
_Can you fall asleep with a panic switch?_  
_When you see yourself in a crowded room,_  
_Do your fingers itch? Are you pistol-whipped?_  
_Will you step in line or release the glitch?_  
** **_Do you think she'll sleep with a panic?_**

**X  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this chapter is my least favorite. I think every author has at least one chapter they slog through and look back on like it's trash. Then again, this is the dumpster fire.


	7. Year 13: Arsonists Lullabye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human must face the horrors of his head, but he's not doing so alone.

**Year 13: Arsonist’s Lullaby**

 

**X**

 

_**When I was a child, I heard voices** _

_**Some would sing and some would scream** _

_**You soon find you have few choices** _

_**I learned the voices died with me** _

 

_**When I was a child, I'd sit for hours** _

_**Staring into open flame** _

_**Something in it had a power,** _

_**Could barely tear my eyes away** _

 

**X**

 

It was starting.

 

He could feel it.

 

It felt like a craving inside of his nerves that demanded the worst things of him. His pulse was not his own but the swish of sharks pumping their horrible little bodies through him. God, he fucking hated sharks. Why sharks? He guessed it was from seeing _Jaws_ as a kid, but it could have been from the time he hit his head on a bench as a kid. Some serious shit seemed to occur as a kid.

 

Seemed like time was skipping out on him. One minute he had been in the shower, the next he blinked and had teleported to the sink? Jesus, it was a bad one. The full horror of what was going on wasn’t fully sinking in yet, but it was there and gnawing like newborn tiger sharks as they ate their siblings in the womb.

 

Speaking of the sink.

 

Cole peered down the drain. Nothing. Just black. Did it go anywhere? Where did Megatron get his water from, anyway? He'd have to ask when he could remember how to talk. Still, back to the matter at hand!

 

Which was…

 

“Shit.” The blond couldn’t remember a thing right now. He’d grabbed up a knife, the only knife in the whole kitchen. He’d wanted food. Wanted to break into one of the new MRE’s Swindle brought in! Where were they from again? China? No, no, not China. Korea? _Which_ Korea? Somewhere in that area. Probably China if he were to guess- “What?” He turned to the side, glancing at the mass-displaced Megatron sitting in the reinforced armchair.

 

The mech blinked slowly as his scarlet gaze lifted from the book he’d been examining. “Mm?”

 

The human blinked and felt the buzz of his slowly unzipping thoughts. “Er, master, did you say something?”

 

“No.”

 

The blond nodded a little too hard. “Okay. Just me then.” Turning like his limbs were stuck in sludge, the man turned back to his… what the fuck was he holding a knife for?

 

Eyes widening at the implication of the blade, he set it onto the counter with a clang, hands raised and heart pounding. It was a knife. Why had he had a knife? He had scissors for the MRE’s and yet he had a knife? Why? Who the hell thought it was a good idea to give him of all people a knife?

 

“Pet.”

 

A fly in his ear. A hole in his head. Fucking fuck, where was his mind? Mars? Orbiting Mars. His thoughts were on Mars. Where was he, his body, his flesh prison of animated meat? Here. Here was… a ship in space. Okay. Okay, he felt the engine thrum under his bare feet, and his eyes went back to the knife.

 

“Pet?”

 

The Hornet. The Sting. The adrenaline inside of him that thrummed as hard as the engines that made the floor hum like a hive of bees. Or an open road. An open wound to get the sharks out. A shark in his veins… that's what the blue lines under his skin were. He lowered his arms and reached for the knife. Small, frilly, almost girly and just so sharp. So so sharp and pretty with its roses on the handle and ceramic blade.

 

“Can you hear me, pet?”

 

God damn stupid fucking moth in the empty confines of his racing thoughts that said to cut. Cut the sharks out of you. You know they're in there, Cole. You know they are eating you alive. Tiny, an inch long. Cookie cutter and hammerhead all in your blood. Cut them out. Cut them out. Pick up the knife and get them the fuck out from under the skin. The blood sharks were hatching under his flesh, and all he had to do was-

 

“ _Cole_.” Megatron. Right ear and more concerned than he’d heard in a long time.

 

“Shit.” The human stared between the knife and his hovering hand, before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. “Shit.” The human refused to open his eyes. If he did, he was sure he’d see a glare on his master’s faceplate. “Megatron. Something’s wrong.”

 

The mech, funnily enough, chirruped. “What is it?”

 

Cole's hand hovered, his body rocking on a tide of his own making. "You remember when we were on earth, and you used sleep deprivation on me?"

 

“Yes?” Was that a soupcon of guilt or a hint of curiosity?

 

“When I started hitting myself and screaming about sharks… that wasn't a one-time thing. It's a delusion, and it sucks. Never got it looked at." The warmth of his master drew closer, and he continued. "It's back. Never this bad. I can usually deal with it but I can't today." He thought it was over. He was happy and safe and in love, but the fucked up thoughts still remained and ate at him. He thought he was doing better.

 

He _thought_.

 

“Hmm...” With gentleness typically used for aftercare, Megatron grasped his human by the hand and led him away from the sink. “Something was off about how you stared at that knife.”

 

“Lock it up. Lock up the sharp things, save for your wit. Lock them up, so I don't-" Cole opened his eyes to make sure he wasn't just talking to thin air like he'd done earlier. "I don't want to hurt myself. But there are sharks inside of me."

 

A blank faceplate didn’t hide distressed optics. “Why sharks?”

 

“I saw _Jaws_ as a kid. Earth film about a killer shark.” Hated sharks, real or not. Too many teeth and so much muscle and soulless blank eyes that knew only hate and bite and rip-

 

The silver hellion's chuckle was soft and gracious. “At ease, pet. You won’t be left to yourself.”

 

The man sighed and glanced away. “ _You_ have an army to lead and plans to make. I can’t keep taking up your time like this.” Not worth it. Not worthy. Not good enough. Not strong enough. Not smart enough. Not-

 

The cold metal of a black servo to his chin brought him out of the racing hell of his head. "That is for me to decide." Megatron smiled faintly. "Shockwave, however, has an open schedule." The mech had handled being S.I.C. so well that he had his duties down to a task list on a note-keeping datapad! Starscream would have been a wonderful S.I.C. if he'd stopped trying to off him every two kliks and wrote things down.

 

Cole nodded. “Okay. He’d probably know what to do about this. Or have notes from the first time.” Shockwave wasn’t a shrink, despite his shape-shifting abilities. He was brilliant and an excellent listener. He might puzzle out what was going on inside his head.

 

Or not.

 

Probably not.

 

Definitely not.

 

He was unfix-able. He was undesirable. He was unhinged and ugly and stupid and-

 

“ _Cole_ ," Megatron growled. "Your pulse quickens when you stare off like that." He paged Shockwave silently. "Shockwave will be here shortly."

 

“Okay." But nothing was okay. Everything was going horribly wrong. His thoughts were on loop, and the loop was roiling through a barren hellscape. Or maybe it was a crashing ocean. Perhaps a volcano. Or a tsunami. Or a-

 

“Boy.” A single, red optic glowed above like the spotlight of a jailbreak.

 

That was Shockwave. The sharp pincers lifting him were indeed his friend and not his mind playing tricks.

 

“You and I are going to have a talk.”

 

“Okay.” Cole stared at nothing as he was moved down the halls of the ship. Were the lights always this bright? Were they _always_ this shade of purple? He was sure there was a hallway going to the right and left, not just the left.

 

Did Shockwave have a different color scheme before? Back on Earth, which was how far? Was Earth real? He knew he was born there but what did that even mean in the grand scheme of the universe? Little blue marble all tiny and far far far far far away…

 

When'd he get to the tank in Shockwave's room? When did Shockwave get a tank for his office? Was it always so fucking small? Why was it square? Or was it a rhombus? The fuck was a rhombus anyway?

 

Shockwave sat, optic trained on Cole like a target. “So then, boy-”

 

“I can’t tell what’s real or not.”

 

The mech whirred. Not good. “What are you having trouble grasping?”

 

“Am I alive?”

 

“Indeed you are.”

 

“Where was I born?”

 

“Earth. Probably in Detroit.”

 

“Were you ever another color? What about the lights?”

 

Shockwave's optic closed entirely and opened to a pinprick. "I was teal, white, and black on earth. I am purple now, Decepticon purple."

 

Cole laughed, but it was high and scared. “What, you’ve got your own shade of purple?”

 

“Autobots have a shade of red.” It’s why Decepticons had red optics; pure mockery. Pettiness wasn’t solely a Decepticon trait, seeing that purple paint jobs on the Autobot side were, still, looked down on.

 

Cole rolled onto his back. “Hehe, so… lemme tell you a story.”

 

“...alright.”

 

“Once upon a time, there was an island called Atlantis back on earth. There was a sculptor or… something. He made amazing creatures and shit, you know?” Cole stood up, and paced, not sure what to do with the manic energy inside his head that buzzed like wasps on a chicken bone. “Anyway!”

 

He closed his eyes… and when he opened them again, Shockwave was looking down at him with a bright optic.

 

“Anyway!”

 

“Cole. You went silent for roughly two hours.”

 

“I blinked!”

 

“Did you recharge at all?”

 

“I blinked!”

 

“Losing time, then...” the mech muttered to himself and typed the info into his datapad.

 

“I stood there for two hours, and you didn't poke me?"

 

“I assumed you were asleep. Mammals can sleep standing up, correct?”

 

“I’m not a horse!” Cole giggled, eyes wide.

 

“Noted. Now, your story?”

 

“Ah, yes! The sculptor! Well, he fell in love with the most beautiful woman on the island! And then decided he’d sculpt her, for her, to win her love!” He sat. “It fucking backfired. Turns out she was a bitch under the beauty. She broke up his sculpture of her, and told him to fuck off! So he jumps from a cliff and dies.”

 

The antlered con waited. “Is that it?”

 

“Is what it?”

 

“Suicide of the sculptor?”

 

“No, no! See… everything he ever made, every man, woman, and beasty? They sprang to life!”

 

“Did they?” the mech drawled.

 

“Yup, they were livid! Outraged! Pissed off! Mad.” Cole rolled onto his back, an ankle in each hand. The soles of his feet pressed together. “The humans bludgeoned anyone in sight. The animals hunted or trampled all their way. The beautiful woman was pursued by the ruined sculpture of her, and was knocked off the cliff the sculptor leaped from! Ah yes! Revenge! Revenge!” Rolling onto his stomach, he pounded his fists on the floor in a mild fit. “Then, once everyone was dead, you know what they did?”

 

Shockwave lowered his helm, urging him to continue.

 

“They dug that island into the ocean, and it was swallowed up by the sea. The sculptures had revenge, and the people of the island were..." He froze. He'd forgotten. How'd he forget?

 

“Were?”

 

“Eaten.” His pulse skyrocketed as he felt them squirm under his flesh and hatch inside his bones. He got distracted. He had to dig them out. “Eaten by sharks.”

 

Oh dear. “Cole-”

 

“Sharks! The sharks! I'm an island of dead men, and they are FEASTING!" Gripping his hair, he pulled the short strands and grit his teeth. "They're gonna take my mind! I can't die like this!"

 

“Cole, there aren’t any-”

 

Skull met floor. A lot.

 

BANG BANG how could you forget BANG crack open the head and BANG start digging in the gray matter BANG BANG get them out they’re eating your brain BANG BANG _thump_.

 

No. No way in hell. Who the fuck put that there? Letting his face take in the feeling of the rough pillow smashing his nose flat, he groaned. Okay. Not a hallucination. Not bad. Lifting his head to get a good breath in, Cole looked to the side at the… man. A man in his tank. Tall, black, with closely shaved hair and a tired expression. Silver glasses glinted in the lights of many view screens.

 

“Were there a better time to show you this, I would have. However, our liege has instructed me to keep you _intact_.” The face didn’t match, as the mech speaking through the hologram didn’t have a _face_.

 

“Shockwave, holy shit.”

 

“Indeed.” The holo frowned. “Are you quite done?”

 

“Dunno. How come you’re not some old white dude with an eye patch or something?”

 

The man smirked faintly. “Boy, I will have you know that I can see perfectly fine with one optic. The eye patch would be overkill.”

 

The blonde curled into himself. The holo crouched before him, brows lowered in concern. So strange to know what Shockwave was feeling with something as simple as a face. “Describe your symptoms.”

 

He blinked, a frown making confusion visible.

 

“We have _quite_ the chemist on board. He simply needs to know everything about this episode of yours.”

 

“Uh… okay, I'm-" Cole coughed, his head throbbing in maddening pulses. "Hallucinations. Delusions. Urge to self-harm, uh..." His hands swam in the air. "I-I think that I'm not real sometimes. That none of this is real."

 

“Interesting.” Shockwave managed to look sheepish. “An unknown human in your tank likely doesn’t help.”

 

“At least I know the voice. That helps.” He kinda wanted to hug the man, but he figured that Shockwave in any form didn’t appreciate physical affection.

 

“I don’t mind it.”

 

“What?”

 

The man frowned. “I don’t mind physical affection from the proper party. If you think a… _hug_ … will help,” Primus, what a mushy word. He knew they felt better than they sounded, few as he’d had and given.

 

“I said all that out loud.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Uh… I think I need a hug. If you’re okay with that.”

 

“I’ll live.”

 

Cole scooted forward and wrapped his arms around the human hologram. So squishy. Too normal. He’d rather hug Shockwave’s arm. He felt hands barely touch his back, and he chuckled. “You’re bad at this.”

 

“Good." He didn't want to be good at hugging. It wasn't his thing. Cole could be an exception, just this time. Only this once. His research had shown that hugging in humans helped release good hormones… and considering what he'd witnessed, Cole needed them.

 

The hug broke quickly as Shockwave’s door opened. In stepped the lanky mech with a green glass globe over his helm.

 

“I trust you have the medication ready?” asked Shockwave from his real body.

 

“Yup.” Oilslick’s stern faceplate did little to ease Cole’s mind. “Organic medicine is too easy.” He set a case into the tank between the man and hologram. It opened with a hiss of cold steam.

 

A set of thin cylinders sat within the case. They were all alike, all twenty of them. Cole plucked one from the middle, examining it to the best of his ability. A button on one end and the other end was flat with a pinhole in the center. The liquid inside moved like lip gloss but glowed just a tiny bit green. “Okay. What’s it do?”

 

The stern mech scoffed. “Press it to your thigh, press the button, don’t scream. Based on your symptoms and an examination of your DNA, Dexanilphen Zolpirix should work.”

 

Cole flushed. "Yeah, but what's it _do_?”

 

“Try it.”

 

The human frowned, gaze on the holo-form of Shockwave. "When'd he get my DNA?"

 

Shockwave's holo shrugged. Odd look for him, to shrug and be so infuriatingly casual.

 

Cole made short work of his pants, a pale thigh exposed. Yikes, did he need sun. He pressed the flat part to the skin, pushed the button, and-

 

“Motherfucker!" Thank Christ he'd never needed an EpiPen! It burned like hell!

 

“You were warned.” Oilslick drawled. “The trunk will prompt you for your next dosage. Notify me of any sluggishness or rashes. Four kliks or so from now, and it will take effect.” He turned away from the two, and called over a shoulder, “Stay hydrated,” before he was out of sight for good.

 

The human sighed and lay on the floor. The pillow was promptly shoved under his head. “Dude, I’m good.”

 

Shockwave’s hologram waved him off. “Lord Megatron instructed me to monitor you.”

 

“Right, right.” The blond rolled over to have his back to the mech-man. “Whatever.”

 

“I fail to see how his care is simply ‘whatever.'"

 

“I dunno, thought he’d be back by now? You’ve been the one caring for me today.”

 

The hologram’s dark eyes hardened into a glare. He stood, arms crossing over his chest. From the desk that the mech occupied came the smokey rasp of Megatron.

 

“ _Shockwave, report.”_

 

Shockwave replied. _“My liege, Cole has become manic, but he is occupied. The boy is quite the storyteller.”_

 

Cole blinked, folding his arms to rest on the pillow. His thigh ached from his injection.

 

“ _Shockwave, report.”_

 

“ _My liege, Cole has lost a large amount of time.”_

 

“ _Any damage?”_

 

“ _Only my pride. Humans do not recharge standing up.”_

 

Cole scoffed at the mech.

 

“ _My lord, Cole has attempted to harm himself.”_

 

“ _...what are his damages?”_

 

That pause made his heart lurch.

 

“ _None. Pillow deployed.”_

 

“ _Good.”_

 

Shockwave disabled his hologram. The mech, still sitting in his chair and claws clicking away, activated his version of a speakerphone. "My liege, Cole has received the proper medication. He is showing no negative side effects. His vitals are stable. Shall I bring him to your chambers to await your arrival?"

 

“ _No.”_ The mechs voice dropped to a soft rumble. _“Do not leave him alone. Keep him until I arrive.”_

 

“Of course, my liege.” Shockwave ended the transmission and glanced at Cole. He ignored the man drying his eyes with the back of his hand. His helm tilted backward slightly. “You mean a great deal to him, boy. Try to remember that.”

 

“Mkay.” He’d remember that, even if he’d forget everything else.

 

**X**

 

_**When I was a man I thought it ended** _

_**When I knew love's perfect ache** _

_**But my peace has always depended** _

_**On all the ashes in my wake** _

 

_**All you have is your fire,** _

_**And the place you need to reach** _

_**Don't you ever tame your demons,** _

_**But always keep 'em on a leash** _

 

**X**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a weird premise [the fic in general I mean] but I really would appreciate some feedback.


	8. Year 17: One of One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human faces a dilemma when the warlord has an emergency.

**Year 17: One of One**

 

**X**

 

_**Lonely, but not when you hold me** _

_**Your beauty weighs on me** _

_**This feeling's too good** _

 

_**Lovely, I can't believe you love me** _

_**Your warm chest beats under me** _

_**This feeling's too good** _

 

**X**

 

Roughness outside of the games they played wasn’t their normal.

 

Then again, Megatron wanting Cole wearing the gloves and apron without being on top wasn’t normal.

 

Eh. Fuck normal.

 

Megatron’s black servos worked into Cole’s hair, grip tight and forcing eye contact. He straddled the human, closed panel rubbing against Cole’s erection. He sneered down at his pet, “What, conquered so easily?”

 

"Eat shit!" Cole, pupils blown wide and trying not to giggle, swiped his clawed hand at his master’s face. Drawing a thin line of energon was enough to make the mech draw back enough for Cole to slip out from under his crotch. He dragged his claws down a thigh and earned an exquisite hiss of pain.

 

Play fighting ending in a rough fuck? Sounded marvelous, and it was!

 

At first.

 

It started with a nagging something. An unusual tingling heat inside of his helm. Megatron ignored it as he lifted Cole into the air. With a growl, he tossed his human onto the bed. The way his little, meaty body bounced stirred something below.

 

But Cole was quick, a ball of lightning at his best. He launched himself from the bed and dug his claws into Megatron’s arm, peeling away curls of paint.

 

Megatron’s faceplate twitched. The heat in his helm was distracting him from the heat beneath his codpiece.

 

Cole lowered his arms slightly from their defensive posture. “Master, what’s wrong?”

 

The mech didn’t respond at first. He shuttered his optics hard. “It’s nothing, pet.”

 

The blond didn’t listen. “Carbon. Master, we can stop if you need a-”

 

“It's nothing." Yet he swayed on his pedes and clenched his servos. The left one didn't close fully, and he stared at it in irritation. "N-no, it's-" Megatron's optics blazed, a black servo to the side of his helm. "Carbon."

 

Taking a quick step forward, Cole raised his hands plaintively as his panic climbed. “Master, I’m not doing this.”

 

“Car-car-car-car-” Megatron’s vents hitched harshly and squealed with smoldering strain. “ _Cole!_ ” The mech shouted and crumpled to the floor with a deep thud.

 

Cole's panic went silent as he saw his master spasm and roll to one side. His optics were dark, mouth locked open to cool his burning internals. The scent of burnt coolant wafted through the air and stung the back of his throat. "Holy shit." The man raced for the kitchenette, and his palm fumbled for the panel on the side by the sink. "Shockwave, come to Megatron's room, and-" Cole swallowed. Had to be strong. His master needed him, and he could not lose his shit right now! "-and bring a medic that can keep his mouth shut."

 

Heading back to Megatron he hit his knees by his helm. “Master, it’s okay. I called for help. Shockwave's coming.”

 

The Decepticon hissed through his denta, left optic completely black. He fought to say anything, but settled for staring up at Cole in… not _quite_ fear.

 

Cole knew better than to think his master was afraid. Angry at his body betraying him, confused at what went wrong inside of him, but fear? “I’m not leaving.” He brushed the mechs chin marking with the back of his gloved hand. “Promise.”

 

Shockwave didn’t waste time, it seemed. The antlered mech slipped into the room quietly, optic flicking from Cole to his lord. In one servo, he held a creature that looked like a pile of whisks and pliers with a red optic on top. Extending his servo into the tank, he set the tiny medic down.

 

“Describe symptoms,” the medic asked the human. He crept as a spider would, clicking and snapping.

 

“Confusion, stuttering, collapse, grabbing his helm, optics acting up.”

 

“In that order?”

 

“No.”

 

“Good. Simple fix.” The tiny medic went to work quickly, sharp digits working at the mechs helm.

 

“Carbon.” Seemed Megatron didn’t like that.

 

“Easy. Medic’s here. So’s Shockwave. You’re good.” The blond intoned.

 

“Car-bon.” Megatron twitched.

 

The little medic hissed as the helm's top gave way. "Keeps saying that."

 

“It’s his nickname for me.” The blonde lied, hands holding his master’s servo. “He stops seeing me when he trains me to fight.”

 

Not looking up, the medic pointed a claw Cole’s way. “The gloves?”

 

“He likes to feel a bite when I land a hit.”

 

“Fair. You are meat. Meat can’t fight.”

 

“Cole. I’m Cole. Loyal pet.” But he hadn’t the energy to make a display out of it. Megatron's internals opened like a blossoming flower made from crimson and chrome. Hundreds of tiny lights danced and winked among bundles of wires and chips. Fascinating, if not for the fact that his master was hurting.

 

“Scalpel. Pocket medic.” He fished around on one side, a set of his own lights lit up across his frame to get a better look at what he was trying to fix.

 

“Carbon.” The silver mech gripped Cole’s hand weakly. Megatron wasn’t supposed to be _weak_.

 

It hurt to see him in pain like this. Cole’s rosary swung against his chest and rattled in the stillness. “I’m right here.”

 

The mech kicked out a pede, mouth agape and rasping harshly. “Carbon!” He released the human’s hand and rolled.

 

Scalpel scurried out of the way, an old diode speared through with a sharp claw. “Primus Alive! He fights with a missing diode!”

 

Megatron curled back into a horrible c-shape, his right arm bent to his chest plate. "Carbon." He froze like that. "Carbon." His vents kicked on with a vengeance. "Carbon." Suddenly his struts loosened, and his entire frame sagged onto the floor. His optics dimmed, lip components drawn. "Car-bon-car-bon-car-bon-"

 

The little medic lunged, new diode at the ready, and all but dove into Megatron's open helm. "He's on loop, won't budge until connected." Hot blue lights of a tiny welder flickered as the new diode was snapped and welded into place. As soon as it started, the procedure was finished. "Done!"

 

Megatron's frame creaked softly, the clinking of metal cooling down the only sound for about a klik. With a loud whir, the Decepticon warlord sagged and rolled over, jaws open but not locked. His helm array closed slightly as his frame relaxed.

 

“Now. Quick scan. Catch problems before they appear.” A red beam shot from Scalpel’s optic, running a beam over Megatron's innards.

 

Cole stayed well away to let the medic finish up, looking upwards at Shockwave.

 

The antlered con glanced down at Cole, as unreadable as ever. He gave a small nod. Be it to ease Cole’s mind that his master would be fine or to let him know he did the right thing… well, who could say?

 

Megatron's helm was affixed into place as if nothing had happened at all. "All set." The little medic skittered Cole's way and climbed his apron without so much as asking. "A blown diode. Scary but easy to fix. Older mechs are prone to it." Scalpel perched on Cole's shoulder like a parrot. "Had me worried, loyal pet."

 

“ _I_ was worried. I've never seen my master as anything but strong. I thought I'd hit him too hard."

 

A tiny pincer patted Cole’s hair. “Loyal pet indeed.” Suddenly, a red optic took up all of Cole’s vision. “But, no need to lie.”

 

“I’m not _lying_.”

 

A sharp claw poked his nose a little too hard. “Bad boy! Megatron could use Hologram, but uses a tiny self?”

 

“Holograms aren’t solid enough for-”

 

“Interface. You two are turborabbits.”

 

Cole grunted, beet red. Shockwave made a warning noise close to a cough.

 

Scalpel continued to climb around Cole's body, scrutinizing as a pawnbroker would a set of pearls. "Business is medic, not kinks. Yet you are spark-saving kink."

 

“I am _not_ a _kink_." On the final word, Cole backhanded the little medic off of him with a glare. He was made of meat, and the gloves didn't hide that. His knuckles ached from the blow, but Scalpel righted himself with ease. "Talk shit again and I'll stick you in the waste bin."

 

Shockwave's servo extended again, a claw out for the medic. “Stop pestering the boy, Scalpel.”

 

The pocket medic climbed the offered servo with ease. “Not pestering! His pheromones are all over Megatron.”

 

Shockwave pinched Scalpel’s frame in two claws. “That is their business.”

 

He shrugged, nonplussed. “But an open secret-”

 

“Is _their_ business.”

 

“Open secret.” Came a voice from below.

 

Shockwave’s helm swiveled to Cole. Oops. “...yes, boy.”

 

The human folded his arms. “How many know? Can you give me a number?”

 

“I can’t. But, I will say that no one cares.” It wasn’t like anybot had the bolts to speak up about it.

 

“Last time I thought that someone tried to kill me.”

 

“Oh, the mech welded to the bar wall?” Scalpel cackled. “Welcome to the Decepticon faction, loyal pet!”

 

“So much for a medic that can keep his mouth shut,” he muttered before frowning up at Shockwave. “Can you put Megatron on the bed, at least? I-I don’t like looking at him on the floor.”

 

Shockwave lifted the mech in a servo like he were a toy in a claw machine. The scene would have been comical in any other sense. Megatron’s frame was set onto the bed without so much as a jostle.

 

“Thank you. Both of you.”

 

He received a nod from Shockwave, then he was left alone with his master.

 

Alone with an injured mech. And he didn’t know how long it’d be for him to wake up.

 

Guess it was aftercare time, then.

 

Sealing putty in one hand, Cole patched what he could. Nothing from the mech. He shrugged off his apron and showered quickly. The cold shower wasn’t _needed_ , he wasn’t even close to turned on anymore. His master had not moved on his return.

 

Cole _tried_ to focus on a book - _My Mother’s Dragon_ , some memoir of some kind- but he’d kept glancing back to his prone, unmoving, unresponsive master.

 

He crouched into a kneel at the foot of the bed and prayed. His rosary twisted in his hands, his gray eyes closed to the world around him as he focused. There were only the beads in his hands, the thoughts in his head, and the song hummed under his breath. Of every hymnal and psalm, he could be breathing into the ether, _Whispers in the Dark_ was all he felt.

 

After that, he felt calmer, but Megatron still hadn't moved. Cole sighed, bone-deep, and stood. Climbing onto his side of the bed, he positioned himself so that he was somewhat behind Megatron's helm. He couldn't lift it well, but he slid under it alright. It helped that Megatron's pedes hung off the foot of the bed.

 

Arm over his master's chest plate, Cole brushed his thumb across his master's chin markings. His gray gaze was worried but calm. He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. The man wasn't going anywhere, anyway.

 

/

 

With a soft whir and a few clicks, the Decepticon Warlord came online. He didn’t move. He didn’t know if he could. Last he knew his processor was screaming and there were claws inside of his helm. A diagnostic told him that he’d had a new diode installed not a joor ago.

 

Oh… _slag_.

 

A blown diode. By the Allspark, of all things!

 

Alright, time to take stock of where he was. The ceiling told him nothing. He rarely looked at it to start with. He flexed his servos, finding them working well. The left one was in proper order, finally. That was-

 

Where was his human? Was he in the infirmary, or-

 

No, hold on. This pillow of his was warm and familiar… and it had a pulse. When had Cole gotten there?

 

It all came back in a flash of sound and pain. _A medic who can keep his mouth shut._ Carbon-THIS HURTS-carbon-I DON’T LIKE THIS- _I’m right here._ -carbon-STOP IT-carbon-MAKE IT STOP-carbon-COLE- diode replaced. Reboot commence. Being lifted and then complete darkness. Water. Humming. Warmth.

 

The sound of his human breathing was all there was in their room. His pulse a constant as much as his breathing.

 

Constant Cole. Called for help instead of panicking. Stayed close and held his servo even after he thrashed and screamed. Shy, bright, loving, resilient Cole, putting himself in danger like that.

 

The mech shuttered his optics at the ceiling. Idiot. His human was a pit-slagging idiot. The hellion found himself smiling faintly. Careful, as always with his human, he grasped Cole's hand in his servo. The warmth, well-known and softer than any mech, was wanted, near craved. Lifting it to his mouth, he placed a soft kiss on the palm.

 

So… this was what _love_ felt like?

 

_**X** _

 

_**Honestly, your lips would never lie to me** _

_**I can taste your love approaching me** _

_**This feeling's too good** _

_**Lovely, I can't believe you love me** _

_**On a warm spring night you stunned me** _

_**This feeling's too good** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact, My Mother's Dragon is a book I wrote. It's on Amazon if anyone's curious. ;)


	9. Year 20: Love Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lie of omission might destroy something before it even begins.

**Year 20: Love Hurts**

 

**x**

 

_**Tonight we drink to youth** _

_**And holding fast to truth** _

_**(I don't want to lose what I had as a boy.)** _

_**My heart still has a beat** _

_**But love is now a feat.** _

_**(As common as a cold day in LA.)** _

_**Sometimes when I'm alone, I wonder** _

_**Is there a spell that I am under** _

_**Keeping me from seeing the real thing?** _

 

**X**

 

Cole was not having a good day, and it was about to be made worse after his visit with the resident chemist. A routine evaluation came to an end with an answer Cole didn't want to know. Hunches aside, he needed proof. Now, after a hard look at the screen of Oilslick's computer and just a few well placed questions for the chemist, he had his proof.

 

There was no easy way to bring it up. “So… master. You know anything about Thanalexine?”

 

Megatron turned. “What was that, pet?”

 

“Oilslick's injections have the two medications for my mental problems and that thing. Thanalexine." Cole shrugged, feeling himself grow hot.

 

“Ah, that. What of it?”

 

The man crossed his arms. “Yeah. That. You know what it is?”

 

“A filler, I suppose.”

 

“Filler. Right.”

 

The mech cocked a brow from his place by the bed. They had been getting ready for a scene, gear gathered, and bed prepped. The mech said nothing but shuttered his optics slowly. He plucked up the prod, contemplating what setting would be safe for his human. Cole had shown interest in being zapped, but it was set to its highest setting, enough to knock himself on his aft at his mass-displaced size. Maybe Cole could handle a fifth of-

 

“Because I asked Oilslick about it earlier, and that’s not what it is.” A beat, the silence of an outraged man. Gray eyes grew stormy as Cole asked lowly. “...did you think I wouldn’t notice?”

 

The mech set the prod down, optics half open. “What is the issue, pet?”

 

There went any control the man had. “The _issue_ is I don't look older than when the injections started!”

 

Palms up, Megatron smiled. “Exactly. You’ll live to be two hundred or _more_. Oilslick's more miracle worker than a chemist, it seems."

 

“You didn’t ask me!” Cole was beyond tears as he shouted. “I’d have said yes!” He sagged, eyes dark. “But you didn’t even bother.”

 

“If we had the same idea, what is the issue?” He really was at a loss.

 

“You took my right to choose.” Cole gripped his collar with one, shaking hand. “I made a deal with you. I am your pet.”

 

“Masters care for their pets, Cole.”

 

The man shouted back at the cold indifference of his master. "We didn't even discuss it! What the fuck?"

 

Megatron sighed, a growl of aggravation rolling underneath. “You needn’t be so dramatic. I did what was best for you.”

 

There was a rustle of metal and the sound of something hitting the floor. On the floor of the tank lay Cole's collar. The man's gaze was a heady mix of hurt and resentment.

 

The Decepticon stared, before letting out a snarl. “ _This_ is my thanks, then?”

 

The man trembled with fury. “Fuck you.”

 

He was quick to remind the man of his place. Grasping Cole’s neck in one servo, he did not squeeze his throat but held him still. “You will _not_ speak to me that way, pet.”

 

“Not your fucking pet!”

 

“Collar or not, you-” He pushed Cole onto his back and climbed onto the bed. “-are _mine_.”

 

“I’m not playing! Stop it!”

 

“What, too good for our safe word?” His thumb stroked Cole’s neck, so strange without his collar and so terribly naked.

 

“Get off me! Get the hell off! _I mean it!_ ” The human bucked and thrashed. There was no escape he could find until something cylindrical bumped his hand.

 

“I did this for _us_ , Cole.” His free servo glided against his pets cheek. Fragile, organic warmth met his digits. “All out of love.”

 

A pale arm lunged forward and landed right across the mechs mouth and cheek. Cole was pissed, but he was still made of meat, and punching Megatron's faceplate did nothing but bruise his knuckles.

 

Megatron chuckled at the blow. “You’ll have to do better than that.”

 

Gray eyes shut, and Cole roared "Fine!"

 

There was a jab into his neck plating as Cole grasped the prod and set it off. Megatron cried out and fell from the bed. He rolled onto his knees and servos, pushing himself up slowly only to feel the prod again. And again. And a fourth time. The mech knew better than to get up after that.

 

Cole’s voice broke. “You call this love? You call this shit love?” the man wept as he ran to the kitchenette, slamming the panel on the side. “Shockwave, I need help, please!” The prod still in hand, Cole readied it as Megatron slowly got to his knees. “ _Don’t_.”

 

Vision growing sharper as Cole's tear-stained face came into view, the mech, for now, did as told. He only wished he knew why this made Cole so upset. They'd have close to three times what they'd expected together! All the time in the world! Cole might even get to see Cybertron in the dawn of the golden age he'd bring to it! "Pet-"

 

“Right now,” The prod was still aimed at Megatron. “I am not your pet.”

 

Optics narrowed, he tilted his helm slightly. “Cole.”

 

“You broke my trust. Fucks sake.” A tear ran down his cheek, and it was only then that he felt himself shaking. “I need a break.”

 

His optics, faintly, flickered. “What sort?” Anything that wasn’t permanent. Not now. Not after all they’d done and seen and been together.

 

“I need… I need a couple orns. Maybe more. I don’t-”

 

The doors parted to reveal Shockwave. The mech froze, optic flicking between the human and his mass-displaced lord.

 

“ _Just_ a few orns?”

 

Cole nodded but did not lower the prod. “Yes. I… I don’t wanna see you right now.”

 

Staring at Cole, Megatron’s faceplate hardened. “Very well. Shockwave-”

 

“Not him. Blitzwing." He'd be a welcomed distraction and would be more likely than anything to hear him out. Shockwave, who he considered his friend, was still Megatron's SIC. He may act as a mouthpiece for Megatron for all he knew. He was sick of being lied to.

 

Shockwave shuttered his optic. What had he been summoned to witness?

 

Truly incredulous, the hellion glared. “You feel safer with _him_ than-"

 

But the man held up a hand to him. "Shut up." He didn't set down the prod as he stumbled to the box on his bookshelf. The old hammock and an inflatable pillow were what lay within. Quickly stuffing some MRE's and drinks into the box, he tucked it under his arm and turned to Shockwave. "Shockwave, _please_ take me to Blitzwing.”

 

Shockwave's claws flexed uncertainly.

 

Gray eyes hardened. “ _Now_.”

 

With that, Shockwave scooped the human from the floor of the tank and left the room. The doors weren't shut for but a moment before he held the man to his blank faceplate. "What's happened?"

 

Cole shook his head as his face threatened to crumble with his resolve. "Ask _him_. I can’t.”

 

Oh. “I shall. After I hand you off.” He sent a message to Blitzwing. _“Blitzwing. We have a situation. You are to be in charge of Cole’s care for the next few orns.”_

 

Hothead replied with, what else, anger. _“You think I don’t have plans?”_

 

“ _You'll do it, or I'll confiscate your turbofox and stuff it out of the airlock!"_

 

Icy emerged, startled. _“There’s no need. Bring me the blond.”_ Anything to keep his beloved Mangle safe!

 

Shockwave, holding Cole in one clawed servo, was at Blitzwing’s door within minutes. The silence of Cole and the ease with which Megatron let him go was strange, alarming really. Cole having his collar removed -he’d seen it on the floor of the tank!- troubled him straight to his struts. What in the name of the Allspark happened to cause such a rift?

 

Well, no matter. He'd had his orders, and he would follow them. If he could assist, he would do so. If he couldn't, he'd let it be. It was his nature to do as ordered, loyal to a fault most times… but he did consider Cole his… friend? No, that was Cole's word for himself. Cole was not his friend, he was merely Boy. Shockwave was a cold, unfeeling bastard who had no need of friends... or so said the crew. The antlered con halted before the door and knocked twice. "Boy. Whatever's occurred, it can be amended."

 

The blond glared hard at the mech holding him. “Right, cuz your boss can do no fucking wrong, that it?”

 

The antlered con seethed internally at the insult, antlers falling back a tick in dismay. Primus, this really was bad if Cole spoke of his liege in such a way.

 

Blitzwing’s door opened, and Random was who greeted them. Servos outstretched, he grinned crimson and chanted “Gimme gimme gimme!” as Cole was handed off. “Tootle-loo!”

 

Shockwave's absent faceplate was met with the chamber door, and he stood for a moment. In the short walk to the triple-changer's room, he'd gathered enough data to get the gist of the situation: Cole was livid, Megatron was the cause, and they were separated due to it. Turning sharply to get back to his quarters, the mech's optic shuttered a few times.

 

What was he to do? Cole made his liege happy, and he _would_ do what must be done to preserve that happiness! But Cole's happiness was a significant factor. Cole could not make Megatron happy if Cole himself was not happy. What a conundrum! Shockwave would see to it that this was remedied... after they both had time to cool off. SIC though he was, he wasn't immune to a beating.

 

/

 

Dropping the man onto his desk without ceremony, Blitzwing spun on a pede. "Ooh! You get to meet Mangle!" Reaching under his berth, the triple-changer pulled out a bizarre creature indeed. "Such a handsome lump! Look at my lovely lump!"

 

It was a quadruped, all white with red claws and muzzle. A black screen in place of optics flickered amber, flashing ":/" before the thing was set on the desk beside the human. Two claws on each pede, and two large ears swiveling about above its helm. Bits of kibble stuck free from its shoulders like a pull-up bar that arched across its back. It kinda looked like a dog but was maybe the size of a _bull_ _elephant_.

 

Mangle’s helm cocked as it examined the human. Its display presented a “???” before it leaned in closer, olfactory sensors going into overdrive.

 

The human was willing to accept such a strange distraction. Anything to get his mind off the raw ache inside of him. "It… speaks in emojis?"

 

“My favorite thing from Earth culture after its music and _Whose Line is it Anyway!_ ” Random clapped his servos together. “It nibbles, but it’s friendly! I swear!”

 

“How’d you get it to- never mind. Probably involves power tools.” Unsure of what to do and still beyond hurt, Cole sat. “Mangle can meet me on his time.”

 

Random cackled. “Turbofox don’t have a gender, silly billy!”

 

The turbofox sniffed the sad meat creature to get an idea of him and decided that sad meat creature was in need of turbofox-brand cuddles. It stepped behind him and sank down to curl into a u-shape around Cole's back. It would move when it was ready, and it wasn't ready, and therefore it would not move.

 

Cole settled into the curve of Mangle’s body, content with the radiant heat its underpannels gave off.

 

Icy emerged, goggle extending and retracting as Cole settled in against his pet. “It seems to like you.”

 

Cole nodded, scratching lazily at some exposed wiring in the creatures neck. Mangle, for its part, revved quietly.

 

“Now then. The reason you’re here?”

 

“I don’t wanna talk about it, but since I’m a guest...” He sighed. “Okay. Okay, uh… so. I’m Megatron’s pet, you know?”

 

“Pleasure pet. I’ve known since we left earth.” A pet without his collar. Without his master. Without his bright smile and purpose.

 

“Okay. Good.” Cole nodded. “Well… my brain has problems that the right chemicals can sort of fix. Megatron had those chemicals made for me, but he had some, uh-” Cole coughed. “He had a lifespan-extending drug added too.”

 

Random spun free with his jagged grin. “Ooh! I can tell you more war stories!”

 

The blond chuckled sadly. “Yeah, but. Megatron didn’t tell me.”

 

“War stories? He must have thousands!”

 

“Not war stories. The lifespan drug. He gave it to me without telling me.”

 

The grinning face froze. It twitched horribly. Blitzwing sat still as his face spun slowly for about a klik, trying to decide what to settle upon.

 

Yikes. “Uh, Blitzwing? You okay?”

 

He finally stopped on Hothead, who let out a roar. “Pit-slagging idiot didn’t ask?!”

 

Cole flinched at the sound, Mangle yapping as it was startled. “He didn’t!”

 

“You’re his favorite human!”

 

“I’m his _only_ human!”

 

Hothead fiercely pointed to Cole. “Exactly!” Icy spun out, his calm a relief from Hothead. “You are one of a kind, and this could cause irreparable damage to your relationship.”

 

“Well… I still love him. Loving him doesn’t make it okay.”

 

“True. You weren't given a chance to say no."

 

“I’d have said yes if he’d _asked me first_.” That hurt the most.

 

The triple-changer nodded, arms crossed. “A few orns to think things over is a wise move.”

 

“If anything it’ll keep me from having to hear him excuse himself.”

 

Hmm. Maybe a distraction would help. Blitzwing pointed to the object on his desk, a large screen with a set of buttons beneath. "Why don't you pick out some music. Find something to dance to."

 

Dancing. Yeah right. Cole stood and began to poke at the buttons under the screen. He sorted by emotion, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. He knew Blitzwing had a media player, but this? This had to have everything under the sun stored on it. The sound of a woman's soft voice filled the room, piano playing with it.

 

_You're hard to hug, tough to talk to_

_And I never fall asleep, when you're in my bed_

_All you give me is a heartbeat_

_I've turned into a statue, and it makes me feel depressed_

_'Cause the only time you open up is when we get undressed_

_You don't love me, big fucking deal_

_I'll never tell you how I feel_

_You don't love me, not a big d-_

 

Blitzwing quickly clapped a servo over the buttons to kill the music. "Okay. You obviously can't feel better by yourself." Random spun free. "So let us watch _Whose Line_ until you stop being a sad potato!”

 

“Good luck with that.” Improv wouldn’t fix the heartbreak inside of him… but it’d help. “Wait, I thought I was a meatball?”

 

“Potato is the superior vegetable!”

 

“Meatballs and potatoes aren’t- whatever. Start the damn show.”

 

“Grab snacks! There are over twenty seasons to get through!" Blitzwing wasn't at a total loss on what to do for the human. He didn't have a tank, but he did have a media player, a couple of blankets, and a waste bin.

 

He could _totally_ handle this for a few orns!

 

/

 

Two orns passed before Shockwave’s schedule was interrupted by his lord entering the SIC control center. Not unusual, but he typically had Cole with him. Not now, however. That was obvious. He’d been there when it fell apart and was left in the dark as to why.

 

“My liege, what do you desire?” He’d been standing there for a solid breem without so much as a word. It was worrying. Megatron was so prolific with words but stayed stock still and silent over a human!

 

“I desire my pet, yet he’s run away.” The silver hellion's pedesteps were heavy as he drew closer to Shockwave. “What has Cole told you about our disagreement?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

Megatron blinked. “He did not elaborate?”

 

“He would not.” Could not, truth be told. The boy was shaken beyond belief.

 

“Very well.” Megatron crossed his arms, optics on the far wall. “Cole’s lifespan is short.”

 

“Agreed.”

 

The Decepticon warlord scowled. “Oilslick developed a way to prolong Cole’s life. Once he had his… episode with the sharks, I simply had Oilslick add the lifespan chemical to the mental health ones. One perfect injection.” He growled with a deepening frown. “My thanks for this gift is abandonment.”

 

Shockwave had stopped typing some time ago. “Is that all?”

 

“Yes.”

 

His blank face and solo optic stared at his lord. He was still as stone as he spoke. "My liege, would you like my _honest_ opinion on the matter?”

 

“I assumed that is what you always give me, Shockwave.”

 

He did not move. “ _Brutally_ honest.”

 

“Speak.”

 

Shockwave's vents cycled a few times before he lifted a claw to his lord. "What in the pit were you thinking?"

 

Megatron frowned. “I did what was best for-”

 

“For _him_ , or yourself?” Solo optic ablaze, Shockwave’s voice shook from barely reigned anger. “You two discuss every aspect of his life under you, but not this of all things! By the Allspark, the most _important_ thing!”

 

It was Megatron’s turn to stare and stay put.

 

“My lord, I’ve seen your receipts for Cole’s care. _I_ send the orders to Swindle, for spark's sake! You ordered new bed sheets after asking what color _Cole_ wanted. You asked what food he didn't want again. What toiletries _he_ preferred, what toys and gear _he_ loves and hates. You have a safe word for your games that _he_ chose! But not this? The _one thing_ he could turn down that would negatively impact you! Not him, you. Oh, mighty one, what in the pit were you thinking?" Vents cycling hard, Shockwave's speech synthesizer grew strained. He was not used to shouting.

 

Megatron vented quietly. “Is that all?”

 

“Do you understand how _devastating_ your actions were, my lord?”

 

The warlord glared, growling as he spoke. “Oh, do enlighten me _further!_ ”

 

“Starscream.”

 

What? Squinting an optic, he blinked in utter confusion. “What does this have to do with him?”

 

Claws lifted up in a frustrated shrug, the mech sighed. “Starscream, a mech once close to you. You said yourself you _never_ thought Starscream would plant a bomb on you and abandon you to rust on Earth. But he did, and you, my lord, did _that_ level of betrayal to Cole. Tiny, loyal, _fragile_ Cole, who’s going to spend the rest of his suddenly lengthened life unable to trust you if you don't figure yourselves out.”

 

The hellion's faceplate melted from perplexed ire to reluctant understanding. Black servos clasped and opened as his processor accepted just how profound his error was. Megatron released a low rumble, frown deepening. "What must I do?"

 

The antlered con laced his claws. “Might I recommend an apology?”

 

The mech nodded and turned to leave.

 

“My liege?”

 

He halted, turning his helm to the mech a bit.

 

“Cole’s trust in you is _damaged_. His love is not. Fix what needs fixing. He’ll forgive you in time. You simply have to give it to him.” If anything he read about human psychology was correct, at least. “Another orn or so, he should be willing to at least listen.”

 

/

 

In what way was taking Cole to a bar a bright idea? It wasn’t. But, sitting in Blitzwings canopy and slightly better off than the previous few orns, Cole had agreed to go with the triple-changer.

 

It was dance night. Blitzwing was the DJ. Something about this situation made Cole both curious and uncomfortable.

 

Blitzwing entered the bar and made his way to an empty patch of floor near the back. Icy's voice bounced around Cole and off the inner panels of the cockpit. "All of my music linked to that screen in front of you. Feel free to choose something in the dance section."

 

The man sighed and flicked through the choices on the menu. He'd only pick songs he knew and clicked the one that was familiar if not fitting.

 

_It's raining, it's pouring_

_A black sky is falling_

_It's cold tonight_

_You gave me your answer_

_Goodbye_

_Now I'm all on my own tonight_

 

Blitzwing’s voice came over the music and back into the cockpit. “Primus, meatbag, lighten up!”

 

“No.”

 

“Well then buckle up!" Straps held Cole firmly in place but left him the room to handle the controls if he stretched a little. Blitzwing spun on one pede and hipchecked a smaller mech out of his way as music blared from him. The small crowd formed and danced along, seeming to have a great time.

 

They didn’t know Cole was there. That he wasn’t happy or having fun. But what did it matter? Cole quickly picked something else as the first song faded out.

 

_Fading of the day_

_As night takes over_

_And I can almost feel_

_You here_

_Your memory remains_

_I breathe it closer_

_I swear that I still feel you near_

 

Hothead blared into the canopy. "Pick something upbeat, or I'm strapping your arms down too!"

 

It wasn’t long before the human could oblige.

 

_Now if she does it like this_

_Will you do it like that?_

_Now if she touches like this_

_Will you touch her right back?_

 

_Now if she moves like this_

_Will you move her like that?_

_Come on, shake, shake_

_Shake, shake, shake it!_

 

Christ, this one made him smile. It was one of the first songs he danced to back on earth. Blitzwing had somehow gotten a hold of his shirt and was swinging it while the human grabbed and spun and swayed. That’s about the time Megatron-

 

He winced, face falling. Megatron had seen him dancing. When was the last time he’d done that for his-

 

The blond quickly picked out another song and rubbed his eyes to keep them from overflowing.

 

_Give me release_

_Let the waves of time and space surround me_

_Yeah_

_'Cause I need room to breathe_

_Let me float back to the place you found me_

_I'll be okay_

 

Would he really be okay, though? He’d given his life to someone that’d go behind his back that easily. If they never worked things out, never talked about this and tried to mend the rift that they’d- No! Cole knew damn well this wasn’t his fault. If Megatron hadn’t-

 

 _Feeling my way through the darkness_  
_Guided by a beating heart_  
_I can't tell where the journey will end_  
_But I know where to start_  
_They tell me I'm too young to understand_  
_They say I'm caught up in a dream_  
_Well life will pass me by if I don't open up my eyes_  
_Well that's fine by me_

 

“Doing good in there, meatball?”

 

“I guess?”

 

“Stop being a sad sack and pick something else!”

 

“I pick how I feel!”

 

“Then _feel_ something else!” Hothead took a chance to shout “Get pissed!”

 

...well. Okay then. Never let it be said that Cole was all sadness and mush.

 

Avicii was promptly cut off and replaced with Otep. The dancing mechs paused, glancing at Blitzwing for a nanoklik before deciding this outraged woman screaming into the ether was _excellent_ to dance to.

 

_Why?_

_The king of lies_

_Is alive_

_Look around_

_Look inside_

_Infidel_

_Infidel_

_Infidel_

_It begins here, it ends now_

_The prince must pay_

_His head or the crown_

_Rob the poor, slaughter the weak_

_Distort the law, perfect deceit_

 

Random’s cackle surrounded the forlorn man. “Ooh! Someone has a dark side!”

 

The triple-changer turned and punched a very burly mech in the back of the helm. Dumb bastard decided to start a bar fight with a human inside of him, but really? Cole didn’t care. It beat being a sad potato.

 

/

 

The SIC had decided it was in his lord's best interest to bring Cole to him himself. His liege was brilliant, fearless, and mighty, but spark-to-spark things were not anyone's forte on this side of the war. His role as SIC meant assisting his liege in any way shape or form. Shockwave would fill said role dutifully and without a complaint.

 

But it had been five orns, not two or three. Too many orns apart. Shockwave _had_ to intervene.

 

He commed Blitzwing as he made his way to the triple-changer’s quarters. “Blitzwing, I’m coming for the human.”

 

No reply.

 

“Blitzwing.”

 

Not even static. Fine. He’d just pop in and take Cole without the triple-changer getting in his way, then. Deft claws punched in the all-points-access codes to open the door to Blitzwing’s room to find it empty of the mech and the man.

 

Had he less control, Shockwave would have growled.

 

His antlers caught something from a hall or so away. Music thumped the walls of the ship, and Shockwave followed the sound with antlers forward like a charging stag. Blitzwing enjoyed dancing in the bar, and Blitzwing was in charge of Cole. That three-faced idiot had brought Cole into the slagging bar!

 

When he arrived, he was startled by the ferocity of the music blaring from the bar.

 

_BATTLE READY!_

_poets gonna take control_

_BATTLE READY_

_souls violate parole_

 

The doors to the bar parted, and Shockwave was met with the fray of a mosh pit to end all mosh pits. He lifted himself slightly to scout out the triple-changer and located him in the thick of it. He charged on long limbs towards the mech as dancers and drunks dodged his pedes best they could.

 

_BATTLE READY_

_violently invade your home_

_\-- breaking the bones_

_OF THOSE WHO OPPOSE_

 

Shockwave’s clawed servo gripped Blitzwing under his chinstrap to hoist him up. “Where is he?”

 

“What-”

 

The mech seethed in a voice so cold it'd leave frost on glass. "Where's the boy?"

 

Icy said nothing, hardly even bothered truth be told. Still, he opened his canopy to reveal a very much alive Cole. Being strapped into the seat had prevented anything more than dizziness.

 

Shockwave reached forward and plucked the man from the cockpit. “We’re leaving.”

 

“God, you fucking buzzkill!” Cole exclaimed, not like he was having much fun to start with.

 

The cyclopean con exited the bar and the door shut behind him. Faint music made the hallway hum. “Lord Megatron wishes to see you.”

 

"Well _I_ don't wanna see _him!_ "

 

The mech’s pedes were fast and loud in the halls as he turned towards his lords chambers. “He explained his actions, and I find fault in them.”

 

The man’s open mouth shut in shock. “...oh. Kinda thought you’d be on his side.”

 

“I’m not, for once. Despite what some believe, I am able to form opinions outside of ones that align perfectly with his.” The mech halted at the double doors. His solo optic trained on Cole. “Boy. All I ask is that you two talk.”

 

“I'm thirty-eight. I'm not a boy."

 

“If you are a man, then act like one.” The doors opened, and Shockwave extended his servo to the tank. As soon as the man was set onto his feet, the mech retracted his servo and let the door shut. This was not his show to see. This was all he could do.

 

Megatron stood within the tank, mass-displaced and staring as the human was set into it. Their tank. In one servo, he held Cole’s discarded collar.

 

The man adjusted his stance, arms crossed. “...well?”

 

Megatron shuttered his optics slowly before setting the collar onto the kitchenette counter. “You’ve had your time.”

 

The man scoffed. “Gonna fucking control when I take a shit next?”

 

The mech growled. “Oh, spare me the attitude.”

 

Cole's arms flew open as he shouted. "Well you don't get a happy fucking ball of sunshine right now, and you know why!" He placed a hand to his chest, eyes wide and full of hurt. "Come on! You think I'm gonna come back and be all ‘yeah lets fuck' after this? Naw, we gotta talk it out."

 

Megatron’s temper flared. “You will _not_ speak to me that way.”

 

“Eat a dick. No wait, that’s my job. That’s all I’m good for! That why you did it?” Sagging on his feet, his voice lowered a little. “That why you lied to me? Wanna keep your favorite toy alive-”

 

The mech stormed forward and loomed with bared denta. “You are _not_ a _toy_.”

 

Cole bared his teeth right back. “Then _why?_ ”

 

“I had no reason to think you’d say no to the idea.”

 

“If you were so sure I’d say yes, why hide that from me?”

 

“Had you said no, I… Mmm..." He couldn't finish, and it irked him.

 

“What? You’d have what? Snapped?”

 

The mech frowned deeply and looked away. "I couldn't bear it."

 

Cole scoffed. “Can’t bear being told no-”

 

Megatron’s scarlet optics blazed. “Couldn’t bare losing any time with you, Cole!” Bearing his dental-plates in a snarl, he ground out “Your life is short, our time shorter. Had you said no while you haven’t even a full vorn left, I-!” His mouth clicked shut with a snap.

 

"You should have asked me!" Anger burned his thoughts as he shouted at the mech he loved. "More decades with you and better health? I'd have said yes in a heartbeat you fucking asshole, but you didn't! You broke my trust! You broke my heart..." The man trailed off, panting. Cole's fighting spirit pulled back, his body so tense he felt he'd snap if a breeze touched him. The corners of his mouth twitched, eyes half shut as the urge to cry grew. "...do you even love me?"

 

Megatron did not answer.

 

Cole glared, eyes hard as steel. "Do you or don't you? If you can't even tell me, then," His lungs took in all the air they could, "then show me. Show me, or I'll find a way out of this myself. I'm not gonna stay willingly if you can't even-"

 

The sound of chest plates opening shut him up.

 

Megatron's face was unreadable, his servos open and palms up in the silent question of ‘Is _this_ enough proof?’

 

Cole blinked and let loose a bone-deep sigh. "The last time-"

 

“Cole.” Uttered so softly it was hardly heard at all.

 

“...fine.”

 

Cole stepped cautiously into his master's arms and was pulled into a hug that had them both on the bed for the first time in orns. Cole straddled the mech and pulled his shirt free as Megatron slowly pulled loose the man's sweatpants. The erection wasn't a shock to either of them, it was a natural response at this point. Swallowing, Cole leaned forward, pressed his chest to his master's exposed spark, and-

 

The chaos from before was muted, less of a maelstrom and more the calm of thunderstorms in summer. The spark and soul _knew_ who the other was, their differences, their oddities, and hangups.

 

Cole’s ire held firm as he was plunged into the frigidness of his master’s essence. The chill of his calculating mind, the darkness of his thoughts… but… there was something else this time. It felt different in there, that vast ocean of self that was his master wasn’t as cold and dark. For the first time, it was as if he’d been plunged into the frigid cold of the sea, but he could look up and see the sun. It blazed above where once was a barren, obsidian sky of nothing. Its warmth and light, its strength and its power… this was love. There was love! So much of it that he surrendered and screamed.

 

Megatron didn't know why he'd had any doubt as to Cole's love for him. It was still there, bright and warm as the sunlight on earth. The former cloudburst of worthlessness was but an afternoon shower. The chill of loneliness was a pure breeze… but there was a chasm here in this wooded meadow where once was solid ground. It was wide, pitch black all the way down, a blight on this open, airy landscape that was Cole. That darkness was his betrayal. The mech felt the realization grip him like clawed servos around his spark; he did this. _He_ blemished this place.

 

The exchange ended, soul and spark pulling apart softly. Chest plates closed with a slow click. Megatron's optics opened to Cole pushing up and away from him. The man straddled him with heavy breaths… then broke into wild laughter.

 

“Christ! You mean it?" Cole's eyes were watery, but he wasn't crying.

 

The mech blinked. “Absolutely.”

 

The man rolled off the mech with a wide grin. "Jesus. I'm still pissed at you but wow. You know how to deliver!" Cole lay on the bed next to Megatron and giggled, wrists above his head and rosy-cheeked. "Like… we've gotta work on shit, but we want to, y'know?"

 

Lazily reaching over, the mech fiddled with the platinum hair of his beloved pet. "We desire the same goal." Megatron knew he'd have a lot to do to fix this… and he _would!_

 

Cole rested a warm hand over the black servo on his head. “Yeah, this- it doesn’t fix everything but...” He then broke into another fit of giggles. “Holy shit this is real.”

 

“Very." The Decepticon warlord smiled softly. "For what it's worth at this point... I am sorry." Hard words to speak without sarcasm coating them, but he managed!

 

The man blinked. "I believe you."

 

Megatron ran his digits through Cole's platinum waves. "Good. How would you feel about round two?"

 

The man froze, thinking. His gray eyes had lost their storm for a time, pupils blown wide. “Well,” he paused, before tilting his head down to peek up at Megatron through his lashes. “can I put my collar on first?”

 

This time, it was Megatron who was grinning.

 

**X**

 

_**Love hurts...** _

_**But sometimes it's a good hurt** _

_**And it feels like I'm alive.** _

_**Love sings,** _

_**When it transcends the bad things.** _

_**Have a heart and try me,** _

_**'cause without love, I won't survive.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Megatron: I did what was best for him.
> 
> Shockwave: BOI.


	10. Year 27: Baal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human is tasked with something inconceivable when an old foe rears his helm.

**Year 27: Baäl**

 

**X**

 

 ** _Baäl Baäl Baäl oh Baäl_  
_Baäl will cause_  
_your downfall_  
_you will fall down_  
_in your hole_  
_then you'll find_  
_you'll find_  
_you've lost your Soul_  
_you cursed the moon_  
_and you fought_  
_I saw you fighting the Sun_  
_your hand is withered_  
_and your life_  
** **_your life is done_**

 

_**X** _

 

“Cole, wake up.”

 

He did so with a start. Weird, his body clock told him it was too-early-o’clock! Rolling onto the side of the bed and getting to his feet, he looked for Megatron.

 

He was easy enough to spot, normally sized and standing. He scooped the man up and quickly left their quarters.

 

Cole blinked with furrowed brows. “Master, what’s going on?”

 

“In private,” came the curt reply.

 

Not willing to argue this early, Cole sat still and just tried to glean what he could. Okay, he'd been awoken at an unholy hour, his master was quieter than usual when he was being transported, and- oh. Okay, now he knew something was wrong; he was in Megatron's right hand. He also seemed to be limping, just slightly.

 

Primus alive, what the hell was going on? Had he slept through an attack?

 

Megatron arrived at an open-doored SIC center. Shockwave turned, his optic shuttered open half way. “My liege.”

 

Megatron dumped Cole onto Shockwave’s desk just as his right servo began to spasm. “Explain.”

 

The mech creaked loudly when he turned to the man. "As you know, there were new arrivals onto the ship some orns ago. It seems one of them was a plant, sent by some idiotic former Decepticon." Shockwave typed with one servo, the other frozen open and curled, elbow locked at a sharp angle. Rust coated the joints and made moving impossible. "The plant attacked, nearly offlined several crew," A new camera angle switched to the largest display and up came a clear shot of a very much beheaded Oilslick. "And put our resident chemist offline."

 

Cole gaped. “Shit! Is he dead?”

 

“Negative. He’s been stabilized.”

 

“Good. I like that guy.”

 

Shockwave managed to look surprised, even half rusted and faceless. "Crazy glitch has a few spare helms, however," A new image popped up, and the inside of Oilslick's lab showed. There was a mech, the color of rust and old energon, laying on the floor. A servo was on the controls, and it seemed like his chest had exploded outwards. "That is the plant. He had been carrying a cosmic rust bomb."

 

“Holy shit!” Cole gulped, feeling bile roil his insides. “W-we had guys like him on Earth. Humans that'd blow themselves up for their cause." A human much like this mech was why his own father came home in a box. "What's cosmic rust? What's it do?"

 

Shockwave leaned in, optic shutter rusted solidly stuck at halfway open. “Take a wild guess, boy.”

 

“Ooh, _fuck_. Okay, okay, uh...” Now giving Shockwave his full attention, he asked “Does it… hurt?”

 

Behind him, Megatron scoffed. What a genuinely Cole thing to ask.

 

Shockwave nodded, making his neck creak in pain. “Now then, your role.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Our nanites are unaffected, but are unable to repair the damage without the cure." Reaching to one side, Shockwave pulled up a glass canister that was capped with plastic bits on both sides. It looked to be filled to the brim with silver powder. "You will journey to the opposite end of the ship, and activate the cure."

 

 _The opposite_ end of the ship? "That'd take almost half an orn on foot!" It took a joor to get there when he was being carried by a mech. Longer if they were short! Fear rattled him as a thought came up. If this disease was affecting mechs the size of Megatron, Shockwave, and Blitzwing this fast, how much worse off were the smaller crew members?

 

Blitzwing, his face rusted halfway between Hothead and Icy, spoke. "You're riding the fox, stupid! You'll be there in two breems."

 

The fox lifted its helm, audios perked.

 

Cole shrugged, eyebrows raised. “Mangle’s metal too!”

 

Shockwave sighed. "Cyberfauna are made of near identical metals as our nanites. While not _immune_ , the turbofox will be infected at a far decreased rate. Mangle will remain active and mobile in the time it will take to reach Oilslick's lab, but it lacks the intelligence to activate the corrostop."

 

Blitzwing scoffed in the corner. “It’s not _that_ stupid.”

 

Shockwave’s optic shutters seized painfully as he turned his helm to the triple-changer. His entire left antler was coated in thick rust. “It also lacks proper servos, you unstable idiot!” He continued with a claw aimed Cole’s way. “But Cole is immune _and_ can place the canister into the air-drop inside the lab.”

 

“Why can’t one of you do it?”

 

Megatron answered in a voice raspier than it should have been. "The airdrop is quarantined within the east corner of the lab. The rust avoids organic life, but if an infected party tried to activate the cure, it's moot."

 

“Moot?”

 

“Moot.” His left optic twinged, rust crawling slowly to seal it shut. “This is our only option.”

 

Cole crossed his arms, eyes wide as he turned to his master. He paced a little on his feet. “So… Me and Mangle gotta save the crew?”

 

Megatron shrugged and hid a flinch. “Essentially.” He lifted his left servo, only to drop it and raise his right. The left was rusted into a tight fist. “Time to go, Cole.”

 

Staring for a second, the man took a deep breath and climbed onto the presented servo. “Okay then.” It beat being slathered in oil and crawling through an air shaft!

 

Blitzwing’s Icy half ground out “I’ve sent Mangle its destination. You’ll want to hold on tight.” He set Mangle onto the floor from its place in his lap.

 

The turbofox clicked across the floor, its optical display flashing an amber "!!!" before it crouched to its belly, audios flat back. It gingerly took the canister in its muzzle and turned its face to Cole. It flashed him a check mark, audios twitching.

 

With trepidation, the man approached and swung his right leg over the creature’s back plates, and gripped the bar that spanned its shoulders. He was thankful that his sister had taught him a few things about horse riding, despite Mangle being far off from a horse.

 

“One final thing." Shockwave reached down, unable to extend his limbs at this point, and handed the man a round, blue disc the size of a canteen. An antenna stuck up about a yard, and a grid covered one flat side. A button sat to the left, and a knob sat on the right. "Antiquated but effective. It's tuned into mine and Lord Megatron's personal comm frequencies. Farthest frequency is Lord Megatron's, the center is mine, the first turns it off. Hold down the button to reply."

 

Cole slipped the strap connected to the device around his shoulder and neck. "Got it." Deep breath. If he failed, the crew would die. "Let's do this." He gripped the bar before him and held on for dear life as the turbofox bolted.

 

This was a waking nightmare. Mangle's pedes were a staccato gallop across the empty halls. So weird to be out here, at fifty-odd miles an hour, and not a mech or femme in sight! The transmitter went off, and Shockwave's voice came out with a crackle.

 

“ _Report, boy.”_

 

Cole fumbled for the button, clinging to Mangle’s handle for dear life. “Boy to Shockwave, we’re going strong!”

 

“ _What do you see?”_

 

“Uh-” He glanced around him. Long, purple lights lit the ceiling overhead. Narrow doors lined the walls and the hallway ended in a Y-exit. “Doors on both sides. Lights above. The hall forks up ahead!”

 

Mangle turned right just in time to bump itself into a wall and jostle Cole.

 

“Oof! Just hung a right!”

 

“ _You’re on the right track. Update as you go. The turbofox can be directed with voice commands if need be.”_

 

“Why-would-I-need-that?" Cole's voice cut in and out as the Turbofox took a sharp turn and leaped over a fallen femme. Christ almighty, was that Hoverbolt? "We jumped Hoverbolt! She's immobile!" The landing hurt his hips, but he held fast as Shockwave's static-laced voice called out in an answer.

 

“ _Some of the more able-bodied crew might try to grab the cure. Be ready.”_

 

“Why would-Shit!” Just then, a burly mech came around the corner. Cole saw a gap between the mechs legs, and cried out “Mangle! Down!” before he flattened against the creature’s back plate.

 

Mangle may not have had servos, but it indeed wasn't as stupid as Shockwave claimed! It made a sharp leap forward and flattened onto its stomach plates to skid under the mech. Pushing off a wall it took off again, claws sending up sparks as it galloped away.

 

“Good fox!” His whole body ached after all that, but they were getting there.

 

It wasn’t long before Mangle’s path was cut off by more bodies. He’d ended up in the hall that held the bar. Some crew were trying to walk. Some were accepting their place on the floor. One, a massive purple and green mech, stared Cole down. He’d sat at the farthest end of the hall and glared as the man and fox headed his direction.

 

“Human,” he growled.

 

“Lugnut.” He and Lugnut never got along.

 

Mangle slowed only enough to get through the bodies, climbing swiftly over legs and torsos.

 

“What are you doing, human? You should _not_ be out in this.”

 

“My master sent me. Mangle is transport.”

 

Some of his optics closed in confusion. “What could a fleshling do for our Lord and Master?”

 

“Cure delivery.” Cole grimaced. Master was _right_. He wondered what Lugnut really knew about what he and Megatron were. While an open secret, it was still technically a secret. Who’d be dumb enough to tell Megatron's biggest fanbot that his liege had a human mate? “I’m immune to the rust, so I’ve been-”

 

A sudden clamoring and shouts sounded as multiple, large mechs poured in through the bar doorway. They were in different stages of infection. One in the front, some thick and heavy war mech, started charging their way. "You heard him! He's got it!" He charged, grimacing in pain as he drew closer, stepping on immobile mechs as he did so. "Give it! I need it most!"

 

Mangle sidestepped and tried to run when Cole heard a huge groan and was amazed to see Lugnut standing and watching him. His limbs were corroding with the cosmic rust, but Lugnut was always one to keep going. All five optics trained onto the human and Cole felt genuine fear for the first time in a decade. Christ almighty, he’d forgotten that Lugnut was so _massive_.

 

“Shit!” Cole, remembering what he knew from horse riding, gave the turbofox a kick with his heels. He was sharply reminded he was made of meat, kicking hurt barefoot, _and Mangle wasn’t a fucking horse._ The fox was frozen, audios pinned back in fear. “Mangle, run! Go! Go!”

 

Lugnut roared and turned away from the pair. His pincers locked onto the oncoming mech’s servos, all optics aglow. “You are not _worthy_ to touch the pet!”

 

“He’s got the cure, numb nodes!”

 

Lugnut swiftly crushed one of the mechs servos as the other Decepticons that could stand began to do so. “None shall harm our Master’s pet so long as _I have say!_ ” His chest pieces opened, and several missiles lit up with activity.

 

Mangle managed to start galloping again, and Cole heard shrieks and explosions behind him. His ears rang. On his chest, the device crackled to life.

 

“ _Cole,”_ his master rasped. _“report.”_

 

The man adjusted the switch to get the right frequency. "Lugnut stopped some assholes trying to grab the canister, but we're good!" he shouted in one breath. Mangle lunged over another mech, one Cole couldn't identify. Then another. And more. "Master, how-are-you doing back-there?"

 

“ _Shockwave and Blitzwing are immobile. I am nearly there.”_

 

Cole knew this next turn by the quarantine signs leading to the lab. Oilslick said they were a mere deterrent, but today they were fact! “So am I! Hold on for another, uh, I dunno half a breem?”

 

“ _For you?”_ Despite the agony of the disease, his master’s smirk was felt through the line. _“I believe I will.”_

 

Oilslick's lab came into view not a klik later. Good, the door was even half open. Mangle scuttled in, making a small hop to get over a locking mechanism. The man blinked at the rust heap by an air vent and scowled.

 

There, laying as prone as the many mechs Mangle managed to maneuver around, was the mech at the epicenter of this nightmare. A winged mech, with a long face and sharp, clawed servos. Cole did not know the word ‘Seeker,' but he knew this bastard on the floor almost killed his fellows.

 

The man sneered at the body. “Mangle, down.”

 

The turbofox did as ordered, and Cole slid off and onto the floor.

 

“Good fox. Drop it." He held both hands under its muzzle and was holding the canister in a klik. "Good, good Mangle." He patted its muzzle and was licked with a segmented glossa in return. "Hehe, alright. Stay.”

 

The turbofox sent out a “???” on its facial screen.

 

“Mangle. Stay.”

 

It did, sitting on the floor with a cocked helm and a “:/” across its screen.

 

“Okay, okay, uh-” He needed to find the chamber. Didn’t Megatron say it was in a corner near the back?

 

The mech on the floor rasped, his internals ravaged by the rust and nanites.

 

Cole halted and made a detour. He strode forward and leaned close, brows lowered into a scowl. “Your bomb failed, glitchhead. Got anything to say for your sorry skidplate?” He leaned closer to hear what, if anything, this slagheap had to say.

 

The mech did, a small smirk cracking his rusted faceplate. The only optic not rusted shut burned as it landed on Cole. “All Hail… Starscream.”

 

Cole stared, uncomprehending before his face screwed up in pure confusion. "Who the _fuck_ is Starscream?”

 

At that, the seeker lunged- or tried to. He made a screeching sound and sagged. The mech offlined a second after, optics and colorful bits going dark and gunmetal gray.

 

“Stay dead, asshole. No one likes you.” Cole shrugged and continued to the air-drop in the corner.

 

A female voice spoke overhead as the first of the twin doors opened and shut behind him. “Scanning for infection.” An array of red lights scanned the man in a grid. A ding sounded, and the voice spoke again. “Scan complete.” The secondary door opened.

 

Cole rushed inside to snap the cure into place in the canister distribution device. Shit, it was so far up. Were there footholds or something he could use? Christ almighty, it was four yards straight up!

 

He fumbled for the switch on his communicator. "Master, the air-drop is about ten feet over my head."

 

A crackle.

 

“Master?”

 

Nothing. He was on his own. Maybe he was out of range? The man refused to think of any other reason.

 

A couple of empty energon cubes were stacked up in the far corner. Cole knew he could lift them, they barely weighed anything and shattered when thrown hard enough. Perfect! He'd always loved playing with blocks as a kid. Makeshift staircase a go-go!

 

Some grunting and lifting later, Cole had his staircase. He hefted the canister up from its place on the ground and began to climb. The hardest parts were done, the critical stuff could start. He slammed into the canister with all of his weight as it moved inch by inch before it finally clicked into place. Jumping up, the blond slammed into the activation button.

 

Silver, glowing motes swirled out of the canister and up the pipe, pumping the concentrated cure out into the halls of the ship. He climbed down the steps and padded back to Mangle. Scariest two breems of his life. Getting abducted had nothing on this!

 

Patting the fox again, he let out a deep sigh from the stress of his little adventure. “Master,” he said into the communicator. “We’re good! All set!”

 

“ _The cure is active?”_

 

“Very active, master!”

 

“ _Good. Now, get out of that lab before the incinerators activate.”_

 

...wait. “Incinerators?”

 

“ _Go!”_

 

Gray eyes wide, the man clamored back onto Mangle and held on tight. Around him, red warning lights blared and spun as the door out of the room began sliding closed. Cole barely held on as Mangle raced out through the small gap. One of the teeth of the door scraped his hip, and he cried out from the pain but didn't let go.

 

The door shut, and the roar of flames filtered through the locked door. Bright blue flames sputtered from the cracks of the door leaving only soot behind.

 

Cole shook from adrenaline and slumped onto the back of the turbofox. “Nailed it.”

 

Mangle whined softly, tilting its helm back to look at the man. It flashed “:(“ his way.

 

“Naw, I’m good. Let’s get back to Shockwave, okay?”

 

Mangle let its helm fall forward before taking off at a smooth trot. What the human saw as a dangerous mission, Mangle saw as a fun task; get the human and canister from A to B, then back again. Simple, and it meant it got to race around the ship as much as it wanted!

 

Cole sat up, both hands on Mangle’s back bar as the hallway where he’d encountered Lugnut came into sight.

 

There stood the behemoth, rust slowly creeping away from his infected places. Others who had fallen in the hall were slow to rise, but they did manage to stand or at least clear a path. Lugnut remained still, optics fixed upon the hall of fallen crew.

 

Mangle maneuvered around one of Lugnut's thick legs and continued on to point A, as instructed. Cole had said it was a good fox, and it would happily continue to be one… at least while being ridden.

 

Lugnut's bass voice called out into the hall with all the threat of thunder beckoning rain. “Move aside for the pet!”

 

There was no need. Pedes were pulled upwards, and servos were held close. Those not consumed by the rust had seen and heard the consequences of trying to touch the pet. Those who had not were horribly familiar with the poor bastard welded to the bar wall as an example.

 

Cole looked back at Lugnut. “Thanks, but I think they get the picture.”

 

The behemoth leaned down. “Those who are unworthy to touch the pet need reminding.” He stepped on the servo of the mech that had tried and failed to grab the cure not long ago. The mech screamed and tugged to get away.

 

Not one for mindless torture, the human mulled over his options. Tell Lugnut to cut it out, Cole would look soft. Order, and have a shouting match. He chose the third option; give Lugnut a job. "He's not a threat anymore, but the rest?" He stretched out his arm to the slowly recovering mechs and femmes. "Lord Megatron may appreciate you being my bodyguard until I’m back with him.”

 

Lugnut needn’t be told twice! Anything to please his master. Stepping over Cole and Mangle in one huge move, Lugnut took to walking ahead of Cole to the end of the hallway. His heavy pedes shoved and kicked downed mechs out of the way. “I shall go ahead and be sure none are in our path.”

 

“Mangle, follow Lugnut.” He knew well from his two breem excursion that the fox was more than capable!

 

Lugnut shuttered his central optic and pressed on. He wasn't an idiot, but he sometimes wished he were. They'd been on a battlefield together on Earth, and the human proved his loyalty to his master that very day by risking his life to be sure Megatron was alright. They had that in common; they'd both do anything for Megatron.

 

That's why the rumors, the so-called open secret of the Decepticon fleet, disgusted him. How could anyone be so foolish as to think their master would sink so low? To lay with an organic, let alone enjoy it? Preposterous!

 

Still, if it made his lord happy, who was he to disapprove if it were true? It wasn't, he knew better, there was no solid proof of it. The behemoth didn't know what to think and wished he didn't have to in the first place. The rumor would remain an annoyance, albeit a false one.

 

/

 

Earth’s moon had slowly but surely been overtaken. The production line for clone creation had been modified just enough to give the clones separate personalities from their origin. Not enough to be a threat to him, but enough to keep things amusing. So many colorful frames, so many interesting differences!

 

Seekers. Closing in on two-hundred at this point. They _owned_ the moon. Its surface was vast and empty of all life but themselves. They weren't drones since they could feel and think, but they were all hardwired with a simple doctrine that they lived by.

 

Starscream is Lord and creator. His word, _final_ . His rage, _swift_ . His punishment, _painful_.

 

So it was only natural that this rage cropped up like a space barnacle. The chosen clone that had been sent out had done what he’d needed, but the plot failed spectacularly. Fell horribly flat. Blew up in _his_ faceplate.

 

He’d sent the clone via his personal space bridge to a known Decepticon-controlled world. The plan was simple; play the part of Decepticon, get to Megatron, detonate the cosmic rust explosive. It was fragging easy! He’d planned to watch the fireworks through the clone’s datatrax after they’d been sent back to the base.

 

So, naturally when a human of all things had the cure, was able to activate it, and was there in the first fragging place… Starscream lost his absolute shit.

 

 _Especially_ when the human on the screen asked: "Who the _fuck_ is Starscream?”.

 

The seeker screeched “Out! All of you!” He made his point clear by smacking the entire contents off of a nearby table onto the floor.

 

Clones knew better than to test their creator. They filed out quickly enough.

 

He didn’t stop at that, though. Starscream kicked over several empty oil drums, added dozens of dents to the nearest wall via a flurry of punches, and shouted so much that he activated his throat gun and destroyed several cloning tanks!

 

One seeker remained, gazing at the fray with an unimpressed frown. A femme, svelte but armed to the teeth, her paint a vibrant turquoise and optics a blazing red. Not a clone, but an impossibility made possible through Starscreams genius and their shared desire to be together. Demonheart was _not_ one of his clones, and she rarely obeyed. Cycling her vents heavily, she approached her mate with her brows lowered. “You done?”

 

Starscream sneered her way. “Are you?”

 

“Tch. Done what?” She hadn’t believed what she’d seen on screen, but she knew that human that wrecked her mates plan so quickly.

 

“Playing it cool, angel. The entire fleet felt how tense you became when that human was on screen.” His glare melted into a grin. “What? Does insulting your beloved really anger you that much? And I thought I was offended!”

 

Her servos balled into fists. “I knew him.”

 

The seeker chirruped as confusion replaced ire. “Wait. Really?"

 

The femme glared at him with her arms crossed over her copper canopy. “I traveled with a young man when I became homeless. He was my friend a long time ago. Gentle and kind, way too soft for this sort of shit. How he ended up with the Decepticons is not a thing I wanna think about.”

 

He stood with a jump and loomed over her with half-lit optics. "So, what are you planning to do about your little human?”

 

Demonheart gritted her denta at him. “Nothing. No point.”

 

Break-everything-spree forgotten, the magenta seeker strode forward, servos raised. “Come now, I know you better than that,” he drawled, a clawed servo arching under her chin. “I could be _persuaded_ into a rescue mission.” He waggled his brows at her sullen faceplate.

 

“Oh right, you wish.” But her final word broke into a giggle. God, she loved her weirdo. Bunting her helm against his shoulder-armor, she sighed. “He wouldn’t know me now. Probably thinks I’m dead. Even if I did find him and bring him back here, then what? He’d just end up thinking I’m a monster or something.” Demonheart wasn’t Sarah Scarborough. She hadn’t been for decades.

 

“Would that be so bad?”

 

“Meh. Weighing my options.” She clicked her claws against his canopy top. She glanced to the side with a smile. “Might just stay here for a while. Mull this over.”

 

He growled with a grin. “Oh, I’ll give you something to _mull_.”

 

The turquoise seeker gave him a poke where his olfactory sensors were. “But seriously. If I can get Cole, I will.”

 

“Hmm...” Pursing his lip components in thought -and pushing her servo out of his faceplate- Starscream drawled, “...once the portable space-bridge I’m working on is fully tested and foolproof, I see no reason why not.”

 

“Solo mission?”

 

Starscream beamed. “Absolutely. Can’t have Megatron rear his ugly helm and strike me down, can we?”

 

Demonheart bumped his thigh with her hip, growling. “You’ll be fodder way before me, handsome.”

 

“Flattery, I see." Gray claws dragged between her wings and got her to squeak in such an excellent way.

 

“Honesty. You should try it some time.” Her arms wrapped about his neck and she excitedly pulled him to lay atop of her, wings flattening out to let her lay flat.

 

“Never.” He grinned against her mouth as he pinned her to the cleared table.

 

Starscream saw no reason to rush into his next plan. He could let the defeat slide since his angel was such a lovely distraction.

 

Demonheart was going to enjoy her mate's ministrations to the fullest. But Sarah, one and the same, wanted her goddamn friend back.

 

The femme would get what she wanted. She could feel it.

 

**X**

 

_**Baäl will cause** _

_**is gonna cause** _

_**your downfall** _

 

_**Baäl will cause** _

_**your downfall** _


	11. Year 35: Fine and Dandy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human angers the behemoth and truly meets the traveler.

**Year thirty-five: Fine and Dandy**

 

**X**

 

_**I was there to witness** _

_**The victim of a sickness**_

_**He wants the world to notice that he's not worth the focus** _

_**He could make an entrance, but could not make a friend** _

_**Now he's got lots of different scratches** _

_**From trying here and then** _

_**And I say: Liberate your** _

_**Sons and daughters** _

_**The bush is high, but in the hole there's water** _

_**You can keep it** _

_**Well than hidden** _

_**No one's perfect, but it's a livin'** _

 

**X**

 

Wiretap, despite his alignment as a Decepticon, had a soft spot for earth culture. Especially their films. It turned out that Hoverbolt had the same soft spot. The two decided that, since they were both allowed to handle the human, and the human would probably enjoy some good earth films, Cole would join them on their shared movie night.

 

How could they tell it was night on a ship, anyway? It didn’t matter, films and rust sticks all around! Or, that was the proposed plan. Cole had to get proper permission from Lord Megatron before any such movie night could commence.

 

Megatron was busy enough with war planning that the idea felt perfect. He bid Cole goodbye with a low growl. “Behave yourself, pet.”

 

The man nodded as he was transferred to the smaller mech’s servos. “Of course, master.”

 

Movie night went off without a hitch with a double feature suggested by Hoverbolt. She grinned and pulled up the first film, trying to hide how giddy she was. “I love the Addams Family! I wish there’d been a third flick, but two’s enough.”

 

Cole chuckled, eyes bright in his seat on the pillow he’d been plopped upon. He got a great view of the vidscreen from his perch. “Addams Family?”

 

Wiretap chirruped. “Hmm. I’ve never heard of it.”

 

The femme sat in her chair with a thud as the film started up. “It’s way old. Like, over a vorn old.”

 

“That’s not old?” The green-gray mech blinked.

 

“It is by human standards. Shh! It’s starting!”

 

It didn’t take long for Cole to get into it. By the time Gomez pulled out his rapier to shut the blinds on behalf of his beloved Morticia, the human was spellbound. Silly yet dark… kind of like his situation if he thought too hard about it. Some joors and a leg cramp later, movie night was over.

 

“Next time, the human gets a pillow to sit on.” The green and gray mech said, holding Cole in one servo. “Cole, where to? Firing range, or bar?”

 

“Huh?”

 

Hoverbolt crossed her arms. “Show’s over, I’m hitting the firing range.”

 

The man gave the mech a look from the place in his servo. “Well gosh, I dunno. Place full of weapons OR place full of drunks?” Pursing his lips and cupping his chin, the man frowned. “What ever shall I do?”

 

The mech chuckled. “I’m meeting with Slapper. This time of orn, no one’s around. Gives he and I time to have fun without shouting the entire time.”

 

“M’kay. Let’s go.” Cole waved to Hoverbolt with a lopsided grin. “I’ll see you later, Bolty.”

 

Hoverbolt rolled her optics and turned on a heelstrut. “Later, meatball.”

 

The mech and man clicked off to the bar. Cole glanced back at the mech and smiled. “So, you and Slapper?”

 

Wiretap shrugged his free shoulder-armor. “He isn’t bright, but he’s entertaining.”

 

The name ran a bell. “Big mech with a sharp bottom jaw guard?”

 

“Indeed!”

 

“Ha!” Cole grinned as they entered the near empty bar. “I cursed him out the first time we met.”

 

“Oh, I’m sure he appreciated the foul language.”

 

At a table towards the back sat the thick, scarlet mech, a cube on energon before him. He waved a broad servo their way. “Wiretap! Human!”

 

Wiretap’s pace increased just a touch, but enough to let the human he held know that he was indeed a little excited. “Sorry I’m late. Movie night ran long.”

 

“Whatev, bruv. Get a cube and sit.”

 

Wiretap took to the bars edge and was met with the rail thin bartender. “Small cube of high grade.”

 

The mech nodded before raising a prominent brow at Cole in question.

 

Cole waved him off. “I’m good.”

 

The bartender shrugged and fetched Wiretap’s drink. Cube in one servo, human in the other, Wiretap seated himself at Slapper’s side and set Cole onto the table top.

 

“So,meatbag,” Slapper grinned best he could with his jagged jaw. “Ya got any dirty jokes?”

 

Wiretap’s optics widened as he fanned a servo at the far larger mech. “Oh stop.”

 

“Nah bruv, I mean it. Got any?”

 

Cole hummed in thought. This was gonna be fun. “Okay, so… what did the sign outside of the condemned brothel say?”

 

“Dunno. What?”

 

“Beat it. We’re closed.”

 

The red hulk of a mech stared for a nanoklik, before letting loose a hearty laugh. “Knew ya had one! My turn! What’s the difference between hungry and horny?”

 

“What?”

 

“Where ya put the rust stick!”

 

Wiretap covered his faceplate and chuckled warmly. “Oh Primus, what have we gone and done.”

 

The blond leaned his head back and smiled up at the mech. “You have any?”

 

“They’re a little longer than yours.”

 

Slapper pointed at the mech with one servo and grabbed his oil can with the other. “Das what he said! Les hear it.”

 

“Okay then. So, there once was this conjunct-endurae pair, and one of them was going off to war. SO the one off to war gets his conjunct a gift.”

 

/

 

Strika had ordered him to the firing range. Demanded he unwind with some well-earned carnage. The only reason he’d been sent out of the war room in the first place was so that his goddess and his master could discuss things in peace.

 

Lugnut’s processor was a whirlwind of confusion. His best efforts to understand what was presented to him were brought up short. His free thoughts were always interrupted by an ugly intrusive thought that had been growing harder to ignore as time wore on.

 

The open secret.

 

Preposterous. Improbable. Out of the question. All words that fit the mere idea and yet the entirety of the ships crew believed it.

 

Save for Lugnut. He knew better. His master would never sink to such a low as to interface with the human. It’d be the same if not worse than interface with Blitzwing’s infernal turbofox! Disgusting to think that any loyal Decepticon would believe such a travesty. Lord Megatron and a human? Laughable!

 

But if it wasn’t true, why did it irk him? The behemoth was at a loss. He didn’t dare broach the topic to his master. It would waste his time! There was also the niggling thought of how they would even be capable of the deed. His master didn’t have a holoform that he was aware of.

 

The bright laugh of the human through the bar doors caught his attention. A plan formed in a nanoclick. Lugnut would ask the human. He’d sort this himself. He’d sort this here and now.

 

The doors slid open as he strode inside.

 

“-and the enforcer says ‘magic plug my port!’”

 

The three of them broke into laughter, even as Lugnut approached through the near empty bar.

 

Cole’s laugh died down. He frowned at the behemoth, but not angrily. “Lugnut? What’s up?” Was he here to collect him? No, not that. Lugnut was forbidden to touch him because his pincers were a safety hazard.

 

“Human, I must ask something that only you can answer!” He boomed, leveling his helm towards the man.

 

Cole stood, glancing at Wiretap in concern. “What do you need, Lugnut?”

 

The mech’s voice lowered to a slightly more acceptable volume. “What is your relationship with our lord and master?”

 

He blinked. “I’m a loyal pet. I do as he asks me-”

 

“Not to him, with him.” The mech’s many optics opened wide, their glow harsh. “I have had enough of this proclaimed open secret. I demand that you stop this rumor here and now!”

 

Oh. Well shit! “I can’t. You’d have to ask my master.”

 

The behemoth seethed. “I will not waste his time with such a triviality!”

 

“But you’d waste mine, the guy with _maybe_ a vorn left. Great. Good to know.”

 

“How dare you-”

 

“Oh for goodness sake!” Wiretap’s voice broke into the conversation, strident and tight. “They’re like Morticia and Gomez!”

 

The behemoth blinked. “Who?”

 

Cole blinked. “That’s… well, there’s is a little more lovey-dovey, but-” He turned back to Lugnut. “-wait, am I Morticia? I feel like I’d be Morticia. Think I could pull off the dress?”

 

Wiretap sighed. “It’s hard to tell. You two have traits of both. You feel more like a Gomez.”

 

The man ignored the vibrating-faster-every-second-he-was-ignored Lugnut and shrugged with palms up. “I dunno. Is there a dominant partner with them?”

 

“Not to my knowledge. I think it would be Morticia, truth be told.”

 

“I’m the submissive, and I’m not nearly as charming as Gomez.”

 

“Give yourself a little credit.” The green-gray mech smirked, now _both_ ignoring the living warhead behind Cole. “You’re not calm enough to be a Morticia, but you’re pale enough I guess! Lord Megatron is remarkably calm compared to you, maybe he’s Morticia...” The image of Megatron in a black dress was too much, and Wiretap pushed it away quickly.

 

“Okay, fair enough, but-”

 

“Silence!” Lugnut bellowed before slamming both pincers onto the tabletop. “You will cease these lies, fleshling!”

 

The man cringed at the volume. “I’m not lying. It’s been-” he looked to Wiretap quizzically. “-how long now? Our open secret.”

 

“About two decivorns?”

 

His brows shot up to his hairline. “Damn. That long?”

 

Slapper rumbled. “Yeah, bruv.”

 

The man shook his head with a squint. “How’d anyone figure it out?”

 

The red powerhouse tapped a digit on the table. “It’s easy for oldies like me. Lord Megatron’s ain’t never looked at _no one_ the way he looks at _you_.” Their Lord was calm, crafty, and cunning, but the small things that changed in his demeanor were obvious. Slapper wasn’t a bright mech, but he knew when someone was happier than they’d been. Especially when he’d been around that someone for eons.

 

The psychologist reached forward sharply and picked Cole off the table as Lugnut made a grab for him. The slender mech glared and backed towards Slapper a step. “Easy now. No need for violence.”

 

Lugnut glowered at them both. “I will not allow you to continue this, human!”

 

Gray eyes hardened. “Why do you care?”

 

“The implication! How can you say such things?”

 

“It’s easy cuz it’s true.”

 

“You will not sully our glorious leader’s name further with your disgusting falsehoods!”

 

Disgusting is what did it for Cole. “You’re just mad he doesn’t wanna fuck _you_.”

 

Lugnut let out a sound between a scream and a subsonic boom.

 

Slapper stood and shoved Wiretap behind his bulk, a giant red barrier between the two parties. He was not _bright_ , but he was also not a _coward_. “Got a problem with m’ pal, bruv?”

 

The green and purple behemoth slammed a claw into Slapper’s chin, but he hardly moved and lunged with a joyous roar. The two were on the bar floor and trading blows in moments, all growls and clangs of metal. This was just what Slapper needed, a good brawl!

 

Wiretap fled, holding Cole in both servos. “Okay, we’re out!” He turned left and bolted, ready to get Cole somewhere that was away from Lugnut. “Should have known the walking warhead would ruin things by being a fragging fanatic!”

 

“Nothing new there, bud. Got a plan?”

 

“No? Why?” The sound of Lugnut bellowing was enough to get the slim mech frantically thinking. “Uh, okay, who’s allowed to touch you?”

 

“Blitzwing, Hoverbolt, Cyclonus, Shockwave, you, and Lord Megatron. Try Cyclonus!”

 

“Wait, Cyclonus?” The mostly mute mech that mainly mumbled?

 

“Deck eight! Run!” The two of them were quickly in an elevator. Just as the doors started to slip closed, the green and purple behemoth came into view and charged. Standing in the elevator together, Cole folded his arms and frowned. “Jeez, I went off back there.”

 

The mech shrugged. “I don’t blame you. I only hope Slapper is alright.”

 

“Probably got knocked out of the way more than anything.”

 

Wiretap looked up at the lights, the small area of the elevator flashing from deep indigo to Decepticon purple as the lights passed. “True. He’s rather robust.”

 

Chuckling nervously, the man asked “So… you two have any fun yet?”

 

The mech balked. “I-what?”

 

“Dude, you _totally_ have a thing for him.”

 

“I-well-he… we can discuss this later!” The elevator doors opened to an upper deck of the Empirion. Smaller mechs, or simply ones who didn’t want for much of anything, lived on this floor. The rooms were first come, first serve. If there was an issue, a fight could usually repair it. “Which room is his?”

 

“Farthest on the right.” At least, that’s how the near-silent mech explained it to the man years ago. Deck eight, last on the right. Knock loudly. “Oh, uh, knock loudly.”

 

Doing so brought a low grumble from within the habsuite. The door opened partially, the horned mech’s frown deeper than usual as his horned helm poked from the door. “What.”

 

“Ah, Cyclonus.” Now the green-gray mech remembered him! Near silent or mumbling, never much else. Purple and pointy. “Take this, a-and don’t let anyone take him save for, uh, our lord or Shockwave.”

 

Optics narrowed. “Why?”

 

The man piped up, an arm raised. “I made the walking ammo locker mad.”

 

Cyclonus gave him a flat glare. “Mm.” He stretched out a clawed servo and carefully took the man into it. “You may stay.” His habsuite door slipped shut with a sharp hiss, leaving the two of them in the dark.

 

Gray eyes fixed on the horns lit by the faint light of the outside nebula. “Thank you, Cyclonus. I owe you for this.”

 

He seemed to frown a little less than before. “You _owe_ an explanation. What has brought you to my room?”

 

“I told you-”

 

The mech tilted his helm down. “Hardly. You gave the short and sharp of it.”

 

“Uh… okay. I was in the bar with Wiretap and Slapper. Lugnut came in and demanded I, uh… confirm what I am to our lord. He didn’t like my answer and kinda sorta went off on me?”

 

The horned mech hummed. “What _are_ you to lord Megatron?”

 

“You’d have to ask him.”

 

“Yet, you provoked Lugnut with this information.”

 

“He called it-!” The man took a several deep breaths. “Lugnut said that the _implication_ of the open secret is disgusting.”

 

“Ah.” He was not a mech for gossip, let alone simple conversations. Still, he was well aware of the open secret.

 

The man glared from behind his bangs. “That’s it?”

 

“I cannot and will not offer more input without more information.”

 

“I’m a pleasure pet.” They were in love.

 

Cyclonus blinked, but didn’t do much else.

 

“That’s all I can give you.”

 

“You cannot disgust me. I have seen horrors you cannot comprehend. While odd, it is not unheard of.” He perched his narrow faceplate into a palm. “So long as Megatron is content, so to should the loyal be.”

 

“That’s why I got mad. Lugnut’s loyal to a fault, but this disgusts him?” Cole felt himself shake, before he sat himself down on the desk with a thump and exhalation of air. “Come on, man! I’m made of meat! How bad can I be?”

 

“Lugnut will only believe what his master tells him.”

 

“If that happens, I’m gonna be in deep shit.”

 

The ghost of a smirk tugged the corner of the horned mechs mouth. “Perhaps.”

 

Cole folded his arms. “Well… I don’t know how long I’ll be here, and I don’t wanna talk your audios off.”

 

The mech scoffed. “It never ends.”

 

“Yeah, I’m chatty as hell.” The man lay on his back, watching the stars as the ship drifted through space. A golden and green nebula floated off to the left. He was content to watch the stars drift by and distract his mind for a bit.

 

Maybe a joor after he’d been handed off to Cyclonus, there was a knock on the door.

 

Cyclonus picked the man up carefully, and awaited what sat on the other side.

 

He’d not expected Megatron.

 

The Decepticon warlord said nothing as he held open a servo. That was all Cole needed to know to know for sure he’d fucked up.

 

A quick elevator ride later the two were back in their room. Megatron set Cole into the tank, and joined him shortly. He glared, optics smoldering under the lights.

 

The man remained frozen to the spot. He knew he’d fucked up. He knew he was going to be punished… and it might not actually be in the _fun_ kind of way this time.

 

Megatron rumbled, a servo to his canon. “What are our rules, pet?”

 

Oh shit. “You are my master. I am your pet.”

 

A click passed. Megatron remained silent.

 

“Uh- You order, I obey. You reward good behavior, and punish bad behavior. My collar is our contract. I am to be loyal and-”

 

“The most _important_ rule, pet.”

 

Oh _shit_. “Ah… n-never expose the true nature of our…” Relationship? “...contract.”

 

The mech turned on one heelstrut and headed to the toy chest. Popping it open with a thumb he reached into the open box and stood, holding a recent purchase from Swindle. Its beveled edges and multiple air resistance holes did not lessen the purpose it held. The mech hefted the paddle in one servo, letting the business end settle into the other. “What did you do?”

 

“I broke a rule.” His heart raced against his rib cage.

 

Megatron growled. “ _Which_ rule?”

 

“Th-the most important rule, master.”

 

The mech thumped the paddle again, hard enough to make it clang against his servo. “Elaborate.”

 

“I-I-” Clearing his throat, the man tried again. “I confirmed that the open secret was true to Lugnut.”

 

Megatron hummed lowly. “In doing such, I had to confirm it to his faceplate, if only to stop that overzealous fool from tearing this ship apart to silence you.” Black servos caressed the mahogany instrument. Wood was such a strange sensation to his digits, but the heft and quality were immaculate. “He interrupted a rather vital meeting with Strika, you know.”

 

“Master, I’m sorry-”

 

The business end of the paddle thumped into an open servo loud enough to cut Cole off.

 

“Bit late for that.” Megatron tilted his helm back to glance down at his human. “Pants off, pet.”

 

Cole swallowed his unease. He… didn’t know the last time he’d seen a paddle, had to have been when he was five or six. Hell, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen actual wood! The man undid his fly and let the shorts slide down.

 

The Decepticon’s optics narrowed. “Both.”

 

“Yes, mast-”

 

“Silence,” the mech stated coolly.

 

His shoulders tensed. _Fuck_. Pulling the briefs down, he stepped out of the garments and averted his eyes.

 

Megatron almost sneered. “Bed.”

 

Cole climbed onto the bed and presented his bare cheeks to his master. He didn’t need to be told what to do for this. He’d lived it as a child. The memories of his angry mother and her far uglier paddle made his heart race from fear rather than thrill.

 

“Good boy. But, not good enough.” Down came the paddle. Pale cheeks tinged pink with the blow. “One for starting a fight.” Again, the paddle. “Another for setting off Lugnut,” wood to bare flesh as the list of errors piled up, a fresh blow for each one.

 

Cole covered his mouth with a hand. Megatron ordered silence. He’d fucked up enough to know any noise would be a bad idea.

 

Megatron grew bored quickly. How spanking could be anything but dull was beyond him. The mech halted his assault and let the paddle fall to one side. “Firstly. You are forgiven. Secondly,” The coolness of his black servos contrasted sharply with the heat of the human’s reddened cheeks. “This… was not as invigorating as I expected.” When the man said nothing, he blinked. “Nothing to say, pet?”

 

But the man’s eyes remained downcast.

 

Oh, right. “You may speak, Cole.”

 

Cole’s head spun to stare back at Megatron with panicky eyes. “I don’t wanna do that ever again, please.” He wasn’t even _remotely_ turned on. “My mom used one of those.”

 

“Cole.” But it was full of exasperation, not anger. “You should have said.”

 

The man sheepishly shrugged and peered through his bangs. “ _You_ ordered me to shut up, and I had to be punished.”

 

Cool servos against his bare back. “Not at the risk of flashbacks.”

 

Ah. “Like you and active cuffs?”

 

“Yes.” Curt and cold. Enough of that. Enough of this. “Let’s. Forget this.” He went to help Cole stand, before deciding against just letting him wander off. For once, he initiated the hug. There was no real harm in the reveal of the open secret at this point. No one worth keeping alive would speak out about it, at any rate. He had no image to protect when it came to his human.

 

Cole accepted the hug and was happy to be hoisted off of his feet.

 

“Sure. Would a movie help?”

 

“An _Earth_ film?” the mech rumbled near his ear.

 

“If that’s alright?” If it was, he knew which one he was sure his master would enjoy.

 

Platinum waves smoothed and bounced as they were stroked. “I see no reason why not.”

 

**X**

 

_**Hey, ho, here he goes!** _

_**Either a little too high, or a little too low** _

_**Got low self-esteem and vertigo** _

_**But he thinks he's fine and dandy** _

_**Hey, ho, here he goes!** _

_**Either a little too far, or a little too close** _

_**He's pretending, but everybody knows** _

_**He thinks he's fine and dandy** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW if you haven't seen Lord Bung's CONFINEMENT, you should.


	12. Year 59: Demonheart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human meets an old friend during a fuel up on a Decepticon world.

**Year fifty-nine: Demonheart**

 

**x**

 

_**Confutatis maledictis  
Confutatis maledictis  
Tragedy storms him when demons spare her life  
And all discover she has a demonheart  
Demonheart!** _

 

**x**

  
Twin suns blazed above as the man disembarked the Empirion. Well, disembarked while in the trusted servo of his master. The walk to the neighboring ship went quickly, and Cole seized the chance to run through the plan once more, just to be sure. Tintilak-4 was a desert planet, happily taken over by the Decepticon cause. Roughly thirty new mechs and femmes were ready to join the massive throng of the Empirion- after an inspection by a medic to make sure none of them were walking bombs… _again_.  
  
The blond glanced back at the mech with a smile. “So fuel up, energon, new members, back on course.”  
  
“Precisely,” Megatron smirked. “Swindle will be your host for the time being. Find yourself something entertaining. Someone will fetch you within a few joors.”  
  
“Could that someone be you?” The man peered up at his master through his lashes. He knew that look revved something titillating in the mech holding him.  
  
The mechs optics glowed brighter in the blinding suns glow. “Oh, we’ll see.”  
  
Cole chuckled before clearing his throat. “Anything I shouldn’t get, master?”  
  
The mech frowned in thought. “Stay within budget.”  
  
Cole cocked his head a little. “A’ight.”  
  
The silver hellion stood before the doors of the ship. He stood tall enough that he had to duck a bit to see inside. Smaller mechs meant lower ceilings. The mech didn’t have a chance to knock.  
  
The double doors split wide, and the odd couple was greeted with an absolutely buzzing Swindle. “Megatron, my favorite warlord!” He turned his thousand-watt grin to Cole, “And Cole, my favorite organic!” The jeep opened a servo near to Megatron’s, having to reach up to do so.  
  
Cole blinked. “Are you okay with me being barefoot?”  
  
Swindle snorted a laugh. “Get up here!” A client was a client, a species difference or not. It helped that good ol’ Megatron had sent the budget to Swindle directly. So many lovely zeros!  
  
Megatron hummed lowly as Cole left his servo. “Do behave yourself, pet.”  
  
“Yes, master.” He gave a slight bow before his master turned and the doors shut. Cole turned to Swindle, brows raised. “So, how secure is your ship?”  
  
“Right to the point. I like that.” Swindle gestured to the ships with his free servo. “Trust me, this place goes from everything emporium to Fort Knox in a klik.”  
  
“Good, cuz if I get abducted again I’ll shit myself.”  
  
The mech laughed. “That your fetish?”  
  
“God, I hope not. So, Lord Megatron gave me a budget and said I can get whatever I want within that. Think you have a human-sized weapon in my price range?”  
  
The tradesmech grinned, quickly heading to one of the rooms in the back of the ship. “Kid, you’ve come to the right place. I sell to species across the galaxy, there’s bound to be something you’ll like.”  
  
Swindle hit a pad on the wall, and a hallway lit itself in silver-blue. Weapons from grenade to blade, handhelds to bolt-on, lined the walls and even the ceiling. Swindle beamed. “This isn’t even fully stocked.” He dumped Cole carefully onto a flat surface. “So what’s your fighting style?”  
  
“Uh… scream until someone finds me?”  
  
Swindle chirruped, a brow raised.  
  
“Being honest. I just want something tiny and deadly. Like a Cricket!”  
  
“A what?”  
  
Cole faltered. “You ever see Men in Black?”  
  
“Oh! Thought you meant- ha!” The jeep nodded. He knew Earth films well enough. He had to know; knowing meant a sale! The mech reached behind him and presented the man with a steel box. The lid popped open, revealing the colorful array of weaponry within. “These are right up your ally. Just no firing on board ship, okay?”  
  
“A’ight.” Cole wasted no time in getting an eyeful. His gray eyes passed over the first few, eyes falling on the two at the far right. The red one shaped like a butternut squash covered in gold buttons seemed interesting, but… too many buttons. He’d always found red and gold gaudy. The green one had a retro style, like an old ’50s ray gun. It didn’t have a ton of buttons, just a coil in the back and a bulb on top. Hell, it was the size of his fist if he stuck out his thumb and pinky! “I like this one, it’s cute.” He hefted it, feeling its weight and smirking at the heft of it. A little heavy, but not much more and a can of beans!  
  
The tradesmech nodded as the cost of the gun was deducted from what he’d been given. Hot slag, there went half the budget right there! “Excellent choice, little man! Those things are vicious, but they have a fraction of the kickback of other models that size.” The sale was impeccable, but there were still so many zeros left! “Anything else you might want? I’ve got tons of Earth products in a crate near the door.”  
  
Cole slid the gun into his back pocket. “Let’s go.”  
  
Swindle wasn’t joking. The crate was half-full of things any human would enjoy. “Hot damn! I’m going in!” He was carefully lowered into the crate, before smiling up at Swindle. “Holy shit, it’s a flea market down here!” Cole sorted through the bottom of the container and felt his jaw drop. “Dude!”  
  
Swindle leaned over the lip of the crate, violet optics bright. “Find something good?”  
  
“Books! And DVD’s! Lots of them!” He dug a little deeper and came across a wide but flat box. “Business grade laptop! Score!” Say goodbye to the tiny one he’d had for the last decade! Under that, a small rectangle with a bright pink paint job jutted out of the pile. “Fifth-generation I-pod! Fuck yes!” Cole looked quite silly, holding thirty-odd pounds of human stuff in his arms. “There a place I can put these until I get back on board?”  
  
Swindle reached down with an open servo. “Load ’em up! I’ll have them gift wrapped!”  
  
The blond opted to sit in the servo to save time.  
  
Leaving the items on a table for Swindle to box up later, the two left the room and headed down a hall. “So, Swindle, where to now?”  
  
Swindle chuckled and took a sharp left. “You’ve gotta see this!” He swiftly walked to the back room of his vessel, grinning giddily. “You remember when we first met? You were so well behaved and so calm, not like the human herd I had back then.”  
  
“I do. Shockwave cut my hair so I looked presentable.”  
  
The mech blinked. “How often does hair need cutting?”  
  
Cole shrugged. “Depends on the style and length.” Shockwave was an expert at getting his hair to a perfect length. “You were saying?”  
  
“Right! Oho, you are gonna like this.” The arms dealer flicked on an overhead light to reveal a tank much like the ones on the Empirion. A perfect square that held five huddled bodies near one corner. “I stuck to guidelines that landed you with good ol’ Megatron! Get ’em young.”  
  
And young they were. A herd of teenagers. Scared, underage teenagers who were miles from home.  
  
Cole’s stomach turned. “Not that young, Swindle!”  
  
The mech chirruped, smirk faltering. “Why not?”  
  
The man blinked. How to put this _gently_. “For pleasure pets, they’re too young.” How was he supposed to explain it? He’d been a teenager when he met Megatron, who was he to talk? Still, he knew what he was getting into when he took the collar. “They break easy at this age, and we can’t have a new limb popped on like you guys.”  
  
The arms dealer hummed. “I’ll let my customers know, but I doubt these guys are gonna be pleasure pets!” He ended it with a laugh. “Not everybot can afford the mass-displacement mod!”  
  
“Guess I’m just lucky.” But it didn’t quell the worry in his gut.  
  
“Indeed you are! Now-” --Swindle placed him into the tank that held his little herd-- “Say hi! I’m sure they’d love a taste of all the fun to come! I’ve got a client on the way, so you guys have fun!” He turned on a heelstrut and strode out of the back room. A soft hiss of the doors and the humans were alone.  
  
The blond sighed, ran his hands through his hair, and clapped his hands together before him as he sucked a breath in through his teeth. “A’ight. Who here speaks English?”  
  
The general reaction was a shared, quizzical group mutter. A short Hispanic girl stepped forward. “Can you tell us what’s going on?” she asked with a faint accent against her perfect English.  
  
Fuck. Okay. “You’ve been taken by a sentient robot who is going to sell you as an exotic pet to the highest bidder, who will likely be another robot like the guy that left.”  
  
She blanched. “Why?”  
  
Cole shrugged. “Humans are seen as exotic, I guess.” The man mulled over what he should say. These were kids; he had to be careful. “If you behave and do what you’re told, you’ll be treated pretty well.”  
  
The girl snarled, “We’re not pets!”  
  
He sighed. “You are now. Look… I… I got lucky. I got incredibly lucky.” Running a hand through his hair, his mind scrambled for something positive to say- until Swindle came in with a turquoise femme behind him.  
  
Swindle was all joviality the second they were in the door. “-things back home with good ol’ Screamy?”  
  
The femme waved a clawed servo at him. “Same slag, new orn. My mate is always up to something interesting.” By god, her paint was in immaculate shape for someone on a desert planet. Megatron’s silver and scarlet were dulled in the breem it took to get to Swindle’s vessel by the dust of the desert winds.  
  
“Oh?” The tradesmech patted her shoulder armor, having to push himself onto his pede-tips to do it. “That have anything to do with how you got here from Luna?”  
  
The femme smirked. “Who knows? Maybe I’ll show you later...” Her smirk faded, and she approached the tank. She bent at the hips to look into the tank of humans. “New herd? Where are these ones from?”  
  
“That wall between Mexico and North America. They cluster around that area at night for some reason.”  
  
“I wonder _why_.” Her scarlet optics fixated on the blond, her brows raised in shock. “Holy shit, no way.”  
  
The man ushered the younger humans behind him, and they quickly fled to the back of the tank. He swallowed and cracked his neck. Something about her unsettled him like he knew her somehow. That couldn’t be; he’d never seen this femme in his life. She didn’t have Decepticon symbols, just inky runes on her wings. “The fuck you looking at?”  
  
She blinked slowly and aimed a claw Cole’s way. “How much for that one?”  
  
Swindle blinked, optics widening. “Ah, hehe, that one’s claimed. Collared and all, I’m afraid.”  
  
She stood, back to the humans. “No, really, how much?”  
  
Swindle’s smile slipped a fraction. “Not for sale. That one’s just visiting.”  
  
“Name it. You _know_ I’m good for it.”

"Nope."

The seeker lost the cool friendliness she'd had and aimed a null-ray at the mech. "Give me the blond."  
  
The salesmech beamed tightly, servos raised before him. “Now now, Demonheart, I’m sure there’s something else you’d get a real kick out of.” Swindle’s shoulder-mounted canon fell forward with a click, and he frowned. “But that human there isn’t for sale.”  
  
The femme snarled and aimed her null-rays at the mech with glinting fangs.  
  
Cole checked that the others behind him and fumbled for the gun in his back pocket-  
  
The femme fired upon Swindle and knocked him to the floor before racing to the tank. She had Cole in her grip and fled the ship before Swindle even had the chance to stand from the floor.  
  
“Okay, okay, uh-shit. Shit!” She glanced around the opening of the ship furtively in search of an exit. She hadn’t thought it through enough. The plan was to get onto the Empirion and slip out with the man, not shoot Swindle in the faceplate! Cole being here put her between a rock and a hard place! Or at this rate, a bullet, and a target if Megatron got his servos on her.  
  
Cole writhed angrily and pulled an arm free. “You’re fucking nuts! Gimme back to Swindle, and you might live!”  
  
“No way dude! You’re safe! Megatron can’t hurt you anymore!” A gentle smile eased its way past the fierce grimace. “It’s me.”  
  
Cole blinked. “Who the hell are _you?_ ”  
  
She didn’t answer with words. The seeker launched herself into the air, thrusters blazing as she folded herself around Cole and took off into the orange sky.  
  
The man kicked and screamed before focusing his efforts on slamming every button inside the cockpit.  
  
“Cole, cool it! It’s me!” The seeker growled and did a barrel roll, smashing the man to her canopy. “Cut it out, asshole!”  
  
“Fuck you, bitch!” His feet slammed into every button and switch he could as sharp corners bit his flesh.  
  
“Hey!”  
  
Cole fumbled at the weapon in his pocket. “Ground your ass before I blow your canopy!”  
  
The femme sighed and took a sharp turn downwards, gliding in an easy corkscrew until her wheels hit the sand. The canyon walls before her arched like open jaws to the skies above. The occasional boulder jutted angrily from the hot sand. “God, you’re such a drama queen.” Her canopy popped opened-  
  
-And the man flung himself onto the sand before bolting. Great.  
  
The femme rubbed her faceplate in dismay and grumbled. “Fucks sake.” Demonheart followed at a smooth gait. She figured with the heat and the sand, Cole would wear himself out, and then they could talk.  
  
It didn’t take long. Cole’s mind raced. He couldn’t exactly walk back; he didn’t even know the way! Under twin suns without water, he’d be dead in no time. The sand burned a touch hotter than the sands of a beach in mid-summer! What was he supposed to do? ...and why was the femme following him like she wasn’t in a hurry?  
  
Demonheart cleared her speech synthesizer. “Hey-”  
  
The blond turned with his gun raised. “Touch me, and I’ll shoot!”  
  
Pursing her lips with a pointed digit aimed his way, Demonheart sighed. “ _You_ need to chill.” She blinked and pointed to a shaded under a boulder at her left. “And get out of this sun before you roast alive.”  
  
“And why would I listen to you?”  
  
Her optics skyward as her last threads of patience snapped, the seeker shouted “Cuz it’s me, stupid! It’s Sarah!”  
  
He threw her a wounded glare. “Eat a dick, lady. Lord Megatron’s gonna rip your wings off for this.” And a few other appendages as well!  
  
“Fucks sake.” She turned to the boulder and took a seat in the sand in its shaded spot. “Come on, bro. My faceplate’s modeled after my old one! Got the same fucking voice!”  
  
Cole blinked hard in the bright suns. “Sarah Scarborough _died_ when she was abducted by a flying robot.” He aimed the gun again. “If you wanna keep up the act, fine. But I know you’re full of shit.”  
  
She frowned. “What do I gotta do to get you to hear me out?”  
  
Cole leveled the gun at her helm. “Tell me something only Sarah would know.”  
  
The femme nodded before pointing. “You were born in Monroe, Michigan, on Earth.”  
  
“Common knowledge!” It wasn’t.  
  
“Jesus Christ, okay-” She rubbed her helm crests in dismay. “We met at Saint Sebastian’s?” Gesturing lamely with a claw, she finished “... I’m wanted for murder in Quebec?”  
  
He lowered the gun a little, but not enough to calm the seeker down.  
  
The femme vented heavily as scarlet optics flickered between the man’s face and his gun. She shuttered her optics before mumbling. “One time, when we were sleeping by a dumpster, a tomcat pissed on me. I had to throw the hoodie in the trash because the smell was making you gag.” Not her best moment, but one only he would know.  
  
His mouth went dry. “...uh… it-it’s you.” He blinked hard, brows furrowed while it sunk in. “Oh my god, it’s you!”  
  
Demonheart grinned and opened her servos to him. “Duh, you silly bitch!”  
  
He ran into her open servos.  
  
“How?” was all Cole could manage as he gripped one of her thumb digits in each arm.  
  
“My mate’s a genius. What about you?” The turquoise femme held the man closer to her faceplate. “You were in Detroit! How’d you get on Tintilak-4?”  
  
“Oh, man, you’re not gonna believe me.”  
  
She leaned back against a boulder and grinned as she set Cole onto a knee-joint. “I’m a giant robot. Try me!”  
  
He did.  
  
By the end of his tale, the femme was stunned, but not speechless. “Wait, so… you’re _not_ a slave?”  
  
He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair. “Only to keep my cover.”  
  
The femme grimaced, optics narrowed. “I fucked up, didn’t I?”  
  
“You didn’t know, and you’re not like the last one.”  
  
“Last one?”  
  
“Autobot.”  
  
“Figures.” The femme groaned and hid her faceplate in her servos. “Swindle’s gonna block our trade deal at this rate.”  
  
The man blinked. “Is he paid well?”  
  
“Extremely.”  
  
Cole shrugged. “Eh, you’ll be fine. How about you? How’d you end up a robot?”  
  
Demonheart grinned at his question. “My mate wanted to prove that a human soul could be reformatted into a spark. It worked!” Her smile faltered. “But I was the only one of dozens that grafted properly. I’m one of a kind.” Starscream was reluctant to give up his scientific pursuit that was Project Icarus, but he hated seeing his mate so upset. Blood made her nauseous, even in her new form.  
  
“Wait.” Cole blinked as the pieces fit together. “Your mate? Is… is that the purple robot jet guy that fucking, uh, abducted you?”  
  
Sarah shrugged sheepishly. “We, heh, we fell in love on the way to my new body.”  
  
“Same.” He fell silent. How did he explain this without making his master out to be a monster? “My new life didn’t really come with a new body. Not at first.” He glanced down at his hands, one still holding the gun he’d bought from Swindle. “I was supposed to be a hostage to trade for some sorta fragments? I don’t remember exactly.” He traded the hands holding the gun, bare feet aching from all the kicking and running from before. “To think it started when Megatron wanted a private show.”  
  
The femme’s brows pinched. “Are we talking champagne room private or-”  
  
“Oh, no. God, no.” His master was too classy a mech for that sort of thing. “Just for him to see me on his own. After a while of us talking, I kinda… got attached.” Cole blinked. “I got attached and have a better life than earth could offer me. I have medication for my brain, a safe place to sleep, a damn handsome mech who’d kill for me… what could be better?”  
  
The femme nodded once and froze. She perked, optics wide. “Is that a helicopter?” she asked as she squinted in the twin suns glare.  
  
Cole stood and backed out from under the cliff face. The silver and scarlet dot sliced through the hazy air at speeds no Earth vehicle could reach. “That’s Megatron!” While his heart was alight at the thought of his master, he felt the chill of fear as he remembered what happened to Tinswitch. Megatron made no secret of what he did to those who harmed his pet. “Last bot to abduct me got dissected alive. You gotta go!”  
  
She chirruped. “No changing your mind?”  
  
“Nope. I’m in love. How about you? Wanna join?”  
  
“Nope. He’s my home.”  
  
“Can’t believe you fell for the guy who abducted-you know what never mind.” His heart raced as much as it ached. “At least we-know what happened to each other!”  
  
“I guess! I’ll miss your tiny ass!” Demonheart nodded, smirking. “We gotta make it look good. Can you shoot me?”  
  
“What?”  
  
She aimed at the end of her wing. “Shoot one of my wings! It’ll hurt, but it’ll make you look like you fought back!” In the distance, the warlord drew ever closer. The sounds of his blades chopped rapidly through the empty world. “That’s a thing with Decepticons; you’ll gain asshole points or something.”  
  
Cole drew and fired. His aim landed true and shot a clean hole through the seeker’s wing. It was no wider than his thumb was thick, but-  
  
She screamed, clawing at her wing. “You little!” She made to lunge for him, but behind the man came a convoy of Decepticons. Above them, their leader, Megatron himself, helicopter blades slicing the air. Even in vehicle mode, his fury burned hot as the flames of the smelting pits of Kaon.  
  
For a bit, the femme stared in terror, then looked back at the man. His eyes were full of tears as he mouthed his final goodbye.  
  
Megatron transformed in mid-air and plummeted with a resounding crash. Poised on his pedes between the terrified seeker and his beloved pet, he aimed his cannon and fired a barrage of neon beams that left smoldering craters behind. By the Allspark, when he caught her, she’d pray for her torment to end at vivisection.  
  
She didn’t take off to fly. Despite her body, human instinct told her to run, not fly. Curse that stupid remnant. The firing stopped, and the femme turned to look over her shoulder without breaking stride.  
  
Megatron lowered his cannon, optics bright as the suns above. He straightened slowly, faceplate harder than titanium. He drew his swords in an instant and lunged.  
  
Demonheart activated the pocket bridge to open before her. With a leap and a flash of swirling blue-green lights, she was gone just as the twin blades sliced apart the air where she’d been.  
  
/  
  
Demonheart emerged from the portal, hunched with grit denta and a hole in one wing. When she raised her helm to face the fleet, her faceplate was contorted in rage. “Little pitspawn fuck!”  
  
The seekers backed away, save for their lord who strode forward and grasped his mate by the shoulder-armor. “What happened?”  
  
Her scarlet optics burned. “A lost cause! Wasted effort! Let him die out there under that monster. Dumbfuck’ll be dead in fifty years anyway!” Demonheart wrenched herself free and stormed into the base. The hole in her wing still smoked. “Don’t know why the fuck I bothered!”  
  
Starscream gaped at her display, before clenching his servos and growling. “Demonheart,” he gave chase, fangs bared. “don’t you dare run from me!”  
  
She shouted as she stomped further in. “Fuck off! You didn’t get shot out of the sky just now!”  
  
“I have been shot down more times than you could count, femme!”  
  
Glancing back, she roared, “Don’t femme me! I’ll fuck you up!”  
  
“Do it then! I’m right here, you-”  
  
Racing through an open door to their shared habsuite, she waited until he was inside with her to shout back, “You what?” The femme wheeled and stood with an arched back and all her fangs showing. “You failure? You idiot? Go on! Say it! I know you’re thinking it you fuckin’ asshole!”  
  
The magenta seeker did not, in fact, say it. He did ask, “Spark’s sake, what happened out there?”  
  
Demonheart’s vents heaved with the strain of it all, but she didn’t reply.  
  
Stepping closer, close enough that they were canopy to canopy, the mech asked in a more calm tone, “Sarah, what happened?”  
  
Her old name brought her back to him. “I-” she cleared her intakes. “I located the human, and he refused to join us. He knew who I used to be, and still refused. Then he shot me, then Megatron started shooting, whole thing was a fucking mess!”  
  
Instant hug. Not a very Seeker-like gesture, but the mech knew his mate. “The bucket-headed fool will suffer for that.”  
  
She hugged back. “Look, it’s- it’s whatever. Let’s forget it. Don’t wanna think about it after today. Screw the whole thing. Let ’em rust.”  
  
Starscream rubbed the nape of her neck plating and pulled back to stare into her optics. He loved those blood-red optics so dearly; he built them after all! “Don’t worry, my dear. I’ll have you patched up, we’ll go on a flight to Shackleton, and you can forget all about that little meatbag.” He grimaced. If old age didn’t get that little oil stain, he would.  
  
The femme’s lip components pulled from her fangs in a retort. She took a nanoklik to calm down, mouth slipping shut and brow smoothing. “You’re serious.”  
  
“Quite!” Starscream began to stroke her turquoise back plates. “Your first solo mission and you returned in mostly one piece. Besides,” he leaned closer to her, optics burning. “Don’t you think a little privacy would be invigorating?”  
  
She scoffed lowly and rapped a fist against his canopy. “Easy, big boy. We’ve gotta get my wing first.” Demonheart blinked slowly at her mate. She ducked her helm, optics dancing about her pedes for a bit in thought. “But… okay. Sure. Can we bring some rust sticks?”  
  
He gave her that thousand-watt grin of his, all fangs and desire. “All you can eat.”  
  
She forgot about her wing and nodded. “Sweet talker. I love it.”  
  
“Oh, don’t I know it.” He shifted a servo to rest above her aft, steering her to the medical wing. He was more than capable of a simple patch. None of his soft-spawned medic clones would dare touch their Matriarch. “What sort of weapon hit you?”  
  
Her brow furrowed again. “I dunno. Tiny and green with this, uh-” she snapped her digits, and they let out a dull clang. “Silver spiral on the end? Glass bulb in the top.”  
  
“Ah! That’s a- wait.” He lifted a brow plate, lip components pursed. “Separate or attached to the shooter?”  
  
“Separate?”  
  
“Ah!” He picked up just where he left off. “That’s a _nasty_ little thing. The Platinum-Ion Coil Silencer.” Sharp digits curled to brush her cheek plate. “PICS, for short. It’s funny, they’re named for the deadliness, I’m sure you know they’re remarkably noisy. One shot through any average bot and wham! You’re not talking scrap after that!”  
  
She blinked.  
  
“Uh… because you’d be _offline_.”  
  
“Oh! Shit. Okay.” Thank fuck that Cole hadn’t aimed anywhere vital, then! “Glad his aim sucked.”  
  
Starscream smirked. “Oh, I agree.”  
  
The pair headed to the medical wing, but the femme’s thoughts were back on her old friend from those years on the streets. It made her ache, Cole’s decision to stay with a mech that her mate had built up as a monster. But she knew his choices were his own like hers were hers. She’d tell Starscream about Swindle later... maybe. Demonheart would gladly fly on, let the memory of her old friend rest, and keep moving forward. Cole was happy, that mattered more than having him at her side. Who was she to decide his path?  
  
Besides, Starscream _did_ promise her some rust sticks. How could she dwell when there were rust sticks in her near future?

 

**X**

 

_**Confutatis maledictis  
Confutatis maledictis  
Tragedy storms him when demons spare her life  
And all discover she has a demonheart** _

_**Tragedy storms him when demons spare her life  
And all discover she has a demonheart  
Demonheart!** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, you didn't think I'd drop the rope on that plotline, did you?


	13. Year 66: I'm Not Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human witnesses the warlord in battle.

**Year sixty-six: I’m Not Afraid**

 

**X**

 

 _ **Tonight**_  
_**We can no longer fight**_  
_**We can never return to it**_  
_**Once we begin to see**_  
_**Through the eyes up over heaven**_  
_**Would you ever return to me in the end?**_  
  
_**I’m not afraid of you at all**_  
_**If you turned away, they will all fall** _

**  
**  
**X**  
  
The throne room tank had gotten several creature comforts over the decivorns. A papasan in one corner, a small crate with books to the left of it, a cooler with food and drink should the orn run long sat to the right. Finally, a camping toilet in the farthest corner for… ahem. Cole was content in the tiny tank, maybe a ten-by-ten square if he thought about it. He didn’t mind the size, so long as he was near to his master’s side, he was content. He was happy to read and stay at his master’s left, even with an ion barrier between them. All in all, a quiet vorn thus far.  
  
Then the alarm went off. The Autobot-proximity alarm, to be exact.  
  
Cole flinched at the klaxon, but the silver hellion merely tilted his helm forward a touch at the sound. “Hoverbolt. Report.”  
  
The femme clicked her way to a view that would give her an idea of what they were dealing with. An Autobot ship sitting beside a space-bridge popped into view. “My lord, a four-mech crew of repair bots and their ship, are within range. They seem to be working on the spacebridge located on that moon.”  
  
The warlord rose. “Very well.”  
  
The human blinked from his seat and stood with a quizzical frown. “Master?”  
  
Megatron turned his helm slightly. “It seems the Autobots have something of mine.”  
  
“Oh, the space bridge’s yours?”  
  
The warlord smirked. “It is now.” With that he left, the doors shutting with a harsh hiss.  
  
The throne room fell silent for a klik, until Wiretap let out an “Ooh, here we go.”  
  
Cole stepped towards the ion barrier and placed a hand to it. “Bro, don’t leave me out. What’s happenin’?”  
  
The green-gray mech glanced at the man over his shoulder-armor. “Lord Megatron just left the Empirion, and there are Autobots on that moon. What do you believe will happen?” He turned back to his console with a frown.  
  
Hoverbolt glared at Wiretap for being a bent plug and turned her focus on the man. Primus alive, his anxiety was palpable. She worried her lower lip-component for a klik, before turning her helm to him with a reassuring smile. “Don’t… don’t worry about it, y’ know? He’s Lord Megatron. Everyone here’s seen him in battle; the mech’s a powerhouse and sharp as an ion-knife.”  
  
“I know.” Her quiet confirmation helped, but his frown deepened. “Just… _I_ haven’t seen him in battle. Saw him get up without an arm and walk that off, b-but not a _real_ fight.”  
  
Primus alive, if she thought Cole had been anxious before! “This won’t be much of a fight. They’re repair bots.” The femme’s pink pupils glanced about the room before landing back onto Cole. She had an idea. “Wanna watch anyway?”  
  
Deep breath. “ _Yes_.”  
  
“Just a klik, then. I can patch the broadcast drone to your laptop. That way you can watch.” Her smile fell to a devilish smirk. “Just, uh, don’t tell anyone it was me.”  
  
“What was you?”  
  
“Attaboy.” The femme clicked her way to an empty display and typed in the commands needed.  
  
Cole settled the laptop into his lap and was greeted by the video app popping up with a raw feed. Not a pixel to be found as the drone zoomed in on the warlord below just as he transformed. He stood out among the violet sands on the moon, a silver and scarlet monolith of potent prowess. It wasn’t long before the Autobots started firing, and the warlord strode forward without a nanoklik of hesitation. “So, why a drone?”  
  
“To broadcast to the Autobots once the carnage is done.”  
  
The blond scoffed, pointing with an open palm at Wiretap. “Oh, you’re done being an asshole? Cuz I thought you were still an asshole.”  
  
Someone to the back snorted a laugh. Wiretap said nothing.  
  
“Bolty, what’s he doing?”  
  
She raised her brows. “The helm things?”  
  
“He keeps-yeah that!”  
  
She shrugged. “No idea.”  
  
Wiretap spun in his chair and planted a servo to his hip. “The space bridges were modified shortly after Tinswitch, and her fate had their broadcast. My last bit of intel before I was declared a traitor.” He pointed to the current mech getting a limb ripped off. “Every crew has to scan their optics into the panel to get the bridge to work.” Wiretap winced as the third mech had his helm pinched off of his chassis. “And if someone’s missing from them the bridge won’t activate.”  
  
“Oh.” Cole’s mouth puckered into a cringe. “Forced optic scan?”  
  
The green-gray mech smirked. “Precisely.” But his smirk died away. “If I’d been treated better by their side, I _might_ feel pity.”  
  
“Thanks, Asshole.” Cole’s gaze went back to the screen. “Guess it only works if the mechs are onl-i-ine!” His words ended in a startled squeak as his master’s black servo swiftly crumpled the third mech’s helm like an empty soda can. “Good lord!” The graying mech was tossed to the side as Megatron aimed over his right shoulder and blasted a mech running towards him with a blade. The blast didn’t offline the fool, only stun. “Holy _shit_.”  
  
“I didn’t know you could hit a high note like that, meatball!” Hoverbolt grinned as she watched her own screen, almost giddy at the sight of the stunned mech being hoisted by his helm to the spacebridge control panel. “Megatron’s not called the Slagmaker for nothing.”  
  
“Nothing is right. Jesus.” He felt no terror at this scene, only surprise. Deep surprise lined with worry; fodder as the Autobot crew were, Cole worried. It was his job to worry. But, with the last mech dismembered and the bridge commandeered, his pulse slowed. “Is it over?”  
  
Wiretap sighed. “Seems like it. Barely even a breem of footage. But it should do.” The feed cut to a black screen.  
  
The man startled. “What the-”  
  
“At ease, squishy. It’s only so the Autobots don’t know the coordinates we’re warping to.”  
  
“Right.” The man shut the laptop and lay his head back with a slow exhalation of anxiety-laced air. “M’kay, now what?”  
  
Wiretap blinked slowly and spun back to his screen. “We wait for our Lord to return.”  
  
“...aight.” The man set the laptop aside and resumed where he left off in his book. It should have been simple to lose himself in the pages of The Alchemist, but he couldn’t. Cole’s role was to obey and behave, but he’d taken up the mantle of nervous boyfriend quickly enough. Sure, Hoverbolt and Wiretap reassured him that their lord was all-but-destined to win against the Autobots on the moon, but-  
  
Cole shut the book with a frustrated noise and frowned at the floor. Megatron would come back to the ship, and everything would be fine. He’d be fine. He should have known Megatron would be fine, but… but why then did he feel the creeping tendrils of guilt that he’d had a doubt?  
  
Within two breems, Megatron returned to the Empirion. Not a scuff or scrape to be found, he strode into the throne room as calmly as he had left it.  
  
Cole wondered why he’d even worried to start with. “Master.” He stood and bowed at the hips.  
  
The mech’s lip-components ticked up in a smirk before he headed toward the tank and punched in the code to lower the walls. He held his servo to the man and smiled slightly when the man climbed into it. “I’ve something to show you, pet.”  
  
“Of course, master.” The two left the throne room and made a left to the nearest elevator. Cole assumed they were heading back to their room, but the throne room and their room were on the same deck. No, they were going up farther than he’d ever gone before, and only stopped once they were at the topmost level of the ship. The doors opened to reveal a room maybe half the size of theirs, but paneled with thick glass on all sides, It was shaped like an oval, with nothing in it, not even a berth or a bench! “Uh… where exactly are we?”  
  
“We,” the mech purred as he entered the room. “are on the observation deck. No one is allowed up here save for myself.”  
  
“Wow… thank you for letting me see this.”  
  
Megatron bent to let the man stand on the cold floor. “Oh, it’s about to become even better. Pick a window, and watch.” He grinned, showing his denta in a fiendish grin. “We’re about to warp.”  
  
“Ooh!” Cole ran to a window and pressed his palms to it in wonderment. Even if the warp wasn’t the coolest thing ever, he was going to get a good look at the stars. The obsidian backdrop of the universe was broken up with blotches of gossamer color, strewn with glitter and orbs of rock.  
  
Then the Empirion steered into the active space bridge, and the world bent into shuddering cyans and pulsing violets. The lights blazed outside of the ship, the hum of the engines overwhelmed by the thrumming might of transwarp travel. It was over in half a klik, but the awesomeness wasn’t lost on Cole. He gaped at the vault of new, gleaming stars, and turned to his pleased master. “Master, if I may speak freely.”  
  
“Proceed.”  
  
“That-” he pointed to the expanse of stars with a toothy grin- “was fucking _epic_.”  
  
The mech chuckled. “Is that so?”  
  
“Hell of a light show! Beats the stuff on Earth by a mile.” His gray eyes were bright from excitement. “How far did we travel?”  
  
“Four-thousand and eight light years. Our journey to Cybertron has been cut by roughly ninety percent.”  
  
The man’s jaw dropped. “No wonder you wanted that bridge. You kicked some ass out there, by the way!”  
  
“Mm?”  
  
Oops. “I, uh, watched you from the nearest screen. You’re incredible in battle, master. I’m honored I got to see you in your element like that.” Megatron didn’t need to know the nearest screen was his laptop.  
  
“Did you?” The mech growled lowly, optics dark. “You weren’t meant to. You were never meant to.”  
  
“...why not?”  
  
Scarlet optics surveyed the stars before them in thought, before Megatron spoke again. “Perhaps it’s foolish to want to shield you from my true nature,” he muttered before his optics went back to Cole. “Yet, I have tried.”  
  
“Because you don’t want me to worry that you’ve got a battle handled?”  
  
“Because,” he stated slowly, “I do not want _you_ to fear _me_.”  
  
Cole watched is master for a nanoklik and let out a loud exhalation of air through his lips. “Master, you don’t need to shield me. I’m no sparkling-” he then plunked himself onto the floor with his face to the window- “and truth be told? I’m not afraid of you at all. I haven’t feared you since you cut off the sleep deprivation thing on Earth.”  
  
The mech blinked. “No?”  
  
“No. I mean, I’ve seen you do worse! I like to think I know a bit about you. You’re not just some angry beast looking for carnage. Anyone that says so can just… go fuck themselves!” Cole leaned forward. The window was cold to his forehead, but the nebula was spectacular and vibrant from here. He scooted back from the glass and turned his back on the stars. He lay on his back to watch the universe drift past. “Beautiful up here, master.”  
  
Few could say they had seen Megatron dumbfounded, let alone be the cause. “How could you be unafraid?”  
  
Gray eyes stared up at the Decepticon Warlord with incredulity. He didn’t know? He thought it was obvious! “How? Uh, well...” Cole adjusted himself to watch the stars and not his master. “I’m not a dumb blond, y’ know? I’ve seen the old history tracts, and they don’t really get to me?” He lay back, so the entire expanse of the God’s Eye nebula was all he saw. “I didn’t know any of those mechs. I get they died, had friends and families, but from what you’ve told me and what others have told me, they could have ditched. They could have lived if they’d just… run. The moment they saw you and stuck around, well, they chose to die.”  
  
When Megatron didn’t reply, the man took that as his signal to keep talking. “Also? I know about Tinswitch. I’ve known since that video of her death came out. I won’t say who showed it to me, but… I mean, I knew you had nimble digits, but good god! Good god, what a work of art...” The rosary around his neck was warm and a comfort as dear as his collar. “You’d vivisect a femme who abducted me, but you’re against things like that, uh, thing where they take your face and hands? You’ve told me your morals, too. You actually have them, so it helps!  
  
“I’ve never been as safe as I have been with you. Sure there are hiccups but, hey! I have a stable home. A strong, handsome mech for my partner. I’m fed, warm, happy, and get fucked silly whenever the mood’s right. Is it perfect? No such thing. Bullshit standard. Close enough. My health is incredible, a happy little guinea pig now that I know my purpose. I look, what, thirty at sixty? That’s crazy! This whole thing we have together is batshit fucking insane, and you know what? I wouldn’t change a thing!  
  
“Now, I guess I’m biased ‘n shit, but- Nah I know I’m biased. I’m your pet human to a lot of mechs, but to others, I’m your lover. I’ve seen your dark moments, and I like to think… I like to think they make your bright moments even brighter. If you were a complete monster or something, there’d _be_ no light.” Finally looking up from the nebula, he smiled softly at the mech he loved so completely. “You’re made of more light than people say. You’re a- you’re night in the dead of winter, but if people would forget the cold and _explore_ , I mean-”  
  
“Cole.”  
  
The man went silent and pushed himself up to sit ramrod straight. He’d never heard his master use a tone that was laced with such soft melancholy.  
  
Megatron watched the human with darkened optics. Lowering his servo for the man to climb into. Cole, calm and deliberate in his movements, the man. “My beloved pet.”  
  
“My beloved master,” Cole responded softly. He tugged his collar gently. “I’m your fool to the end.”  
  
The mech’s faceplate relaxed in quiet resignation, and he desperately wanted to ignore that his optics flickered as he spoke. “You’ll find that I don’t see myself as you do.” Cole, who looked at him as if he were anything but an old mech bent on remolding a planet for himself to rule.  
  
“I didn’t think you would? We’re different people. Different species, too.”  
  
He shook his helm, lip components drawn tight as the man was lifted to his shoulder armor. “Despite your feelings, your love is not enough to gloss over the things I do.”  
  
The man stepped onto the offered shoulder and pressed his chest to the mech’s audio. “I’m not glossing over anything. The you _I_ know is the you _I_ love. That’s all I need to know to know I love you.”  
  
Megatron sighed quietly. At this size, he could not do what he desired and hold the man to him. He settled upon gently pressing his servo to the man’s back.  
  
Cole rested his cheek on top of the audio, eyes back on the silent galaxy outside. He draped his arms over the mech’s helm.  
  
“...I love you.”  
  
Chuckling, the man shut his eyes. “I know.”  
  
**x**

 **_I’m not afraid of you at all_ **  
**_I’m not afraid tonight_**  
**_All your stars glowing bright_**  
**_I know I’ll reach that light again_**  
**_Again_**  
**_Ooh again_**  
**_Again_ **


	14. Year 80: Love Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human and the warlord celebrate a milestone.

**Year Eighty: Love Like You**

 

**X**

 

_**If I could begin to be** _

_**half of what you think of me** _

_**I could do about anything** _

_**I could even learn how to love** _

 

_**When I see the way you act** _

_**Wondering when I'm coming back** _

_**I could do about anything** _

_**I could even learn how to love like you** _

_**Love like you** _

 

_**x** _

 

Shockwave springing Cole on Hoverbolt was by far _not_ the weirdest thing she'd faced. Still, she had no idea what to do with the human for the time she had him. Too short to watch a movie, and far quicker than any prior visit. Still, she liked the man, even if it meant using both servos to hold him. "So, little man, what are you here for?"

 

The man straightened in her servos and posted a fist to each hip. "Girl, I need your help, and I've got two breems to get it. Shockwave's running on a tight schedule, but he made a pick-up because of what today is!"

 

She blinked. "That's it?"

 

He deflated but smiled. "Yeah, Bolty, I need your help figuring something out. A vorn for a human is a big deal!" He didn't _look_ a day over thirty and didn't _feel_ a day over fifty. He'd have to thank Oilslick somehow.

 

"A vorn of what?" The femme was utterly lost now.

 

"Uh, I dunno!" The man gripped his collar and gave the femme a look. "A whole vorn as Lord Megatron's pet!"

 

"Oh." Hoverbolt chirruped, still unsure what he was getting at. Then the pieces clicked into place and beamed as she plopped the man onto her tiny desk. "Oh! Oh, that's _adorable!_ What are you thinking? All out, or what?"

 

"That's the problem." The man fiddled with the rosary as he let the collar go. "I don't know what's… traditional for this sort of thing. I know human traditions pretty well, but not Decepticon ones." As if what he and Megatron had was anything traditional. "Kinda hoped you would know. That's why I asked Shockwave to bring me here."

 

The femme pouted, optics half open and helm perched in one servo. "There's vorns of stuff on what to do with an anniversary. But the oldest traditions are adornments. The good news is that it's your first vorn, so I wouldn't expect a huge amount of work."

 

He blinked. "What kind of adornments?"

 

"For a squishy? I'd go with paint. Facial markings are _huge_ for older mechs."

 

"Lord Megatron's not _that_ old!" Was he?

 

The femme giggled. "Our leader's got _millions_ of vorns behind him!"

 

"...Jesus." He was.

 

"Yeah. But facial markings are old school. He'll probably think it's cute."

 

"Okay, let's do it."

 

Hoverbolt reached under her desk and pulled out a small jar of some black stuff before rooting around by her pede a bit more. "Lessee, we got… ooh!" She returned with the absolute tiniest brush she could find. "Perfect. Black is always a classic for anniversaries!" And funerals, creation date celebrations, _conjunx endurae_ ceremonies… come to think of it, she didn't remember the last time she needed any color _other_ than black!

 

The man eyed the jar. "What's in the paint?"

 

"Good question." Her optics flickered before she smiled. "It's organic safe! Triple checked it." Hoverbolt stirred the paint with the fine-tipped brush and set to work. "Now just close your eyes, and-" She paused, mouth pert as a thought arose. "They're called eyes, right?"

 

"Yup."

 

"Okay! Close your eyes and let me do some magic."

 

The paste was cold to his skin. The brush tugged his eyelids as they were lined underneath in black. It was sticky, but it dried quickly. A line went down from each eye at the outer corner to his jaw, then the sound of more paint being added to the paintbrush. Two dots above each brow and two directly underneath. It was rather calming to be pampered with something as simple as paint.

 

The femme giggled. "I love it, but one more thing."

 

The man nodded to show he was, indeed, awake.

 

"Open your mouth."

 

Cole opened an eye and shot her an uncertain look.

 

"Gotta do your lower lip and the chin! Hmm… one line, or two."

 

"One."

 

"Yeah?"

 

"To match Lord Megatron's chin adornment."

 

The femme repressed a squeal which sent jitters of laughter through Cole.

 

He opened his mouth to let the femme finish her work. The tip of the brush ghosted his tongue, and he found the taste… not unpleasant, more like weak mint and dish soap than anything nasty.

 

"Just a single line down the middle, checkin' out the symmetry, and-" She pulled away with a grin and pulled up a mirror that could fit in her servo. "All set! Check yourself out."

 

Cole opened his eyes and blinked. The paint dried quickly and moved with him without cracks or peeling. It was pitch black and matte in finish, but there was a faint silver glitter within that caught the lights just enough. He ran his a hand through his hair and gave his reflection his best sexy growl. "Hello, handsome."

 

The femme giggled. "What was that noise?"

 

"Dunno!" Cole ducked his head and giggled right back. "I hope he likes it. I know I do."

 

Hoverbolt nodded as she added a still image of Cole to her memory banks. She knew a couple of cons that'd love to see what the human had done for their lord. Who knew a human could look that good with some paint and patience? Still a ball of meat, but the dedication to their leader was something worth appreciating.

 

It wasn't a klik later that Shockwave arrived to collect the man. Without a word, he opened the door and extended a servo until Cole was plucked from Hoverbolt's desk. The femme let out an indignant yelp as the door closed once more.

 

"What in the Allspark?" Shockwave lifted Cole closer to his optic and examined him curiously. "Boy, what is this?"

 

"They're adornments."

 

"Yes, but how did you manage them?"

 

"Hoverbolt helped-" he raised a hand to keep the mech quiet. "-before you ask, yes, the paint is safe."

 

"Mm. I'm curious as to why you chose those markings."

 

"Oh… uh… I don't actually know what I got?"

 

Shockwave sighed and gestured with a claw. "For spark's sake. At least do a little research."

 

"How am I supposed to do that? It'd ruin _any_ element of surprise!" Cole's brow furrowed, arms crossed over his chest. "Why? What'd I get?"

 

"The chin adornment states that yours and your mates' goal is one and the same." Claws whirling in the air before him, he continued. "The lines under your opt- _eyes_ , your eyes mean your mate is your focus."

 

"And the eyebrow dots?"

 

"Pure decoration."

 

Cole chuckled. "Jesus, I don't even wanna know what the lip mark means."

 

"It means 'I let some femme use antiquated adornment practices on me without looking into it myself.'"

 

Captain Buzzkill was going strong, it seemed. "What's up your port?"

 

The cyclopean con kept his gaze focused. "Nothing, Cole."

 

"Cole? Now I know you're lying."

 

The mech shuttered his optic, opening it to a pinprick. "I… do not understand romantic relations. All of what you do is confusing." His optic opened fully, the pupil focused on the man he held. "Romance has never been part of my desires or needs, yet here you are, painted for the one you love. Yet, for myself, none of it clicks into place."

 

"Oh. Oh!" The man folded his arms to rest of Shockwave's thumb. "Have you never had a partner?"

 

"I've neither time or interest. I never have, and I doubt I will at my age."

 

Cole blinked, face pinched in thought. "So… you're aromantic?" He held up a hand, "N-not a romantic, _aromantic_. Like asexual, only for romance instead of sex? Like that."

 

"... there's a word for it?"

 

"Yeah, dude. Congrats." Cole flashed the lanky spy a thumbs up.

 

"Ah." The mech paused before Megatron's door, antlers tilting back and forth a bit. "Here I'd believed I was damaged."

 

"I'm pretty sure most of us are damaged somehow." The doors opened to show an empty chamber. Cole grinned up at Shockwave and batted his lashes at the mech. "Don't suppose you could cuff me and put me on the bed?"

 

The mech said nothing and extended an arm to drop Cole into the tank.

 

He knew that wouldn't work, but how could he resist bothering Shockwave a little? Cole had a set of cuffs, and he knew he was limber enough to get it done. He could _totally_ cuff himself and try to get his arms behind his back if he really tried!

 

And try, he did.

 

He fished the item out of the toy chest from its resting place of the top pocket under the lid. He wasted no time. The cuffs clipped onto Cole's wrists with cold familiarity, and he sat on the bed with a determined frown. Time for the tough part; getting his arms behind his back!

 

*

 

Megatron did not get nervous. More composed than an orchestra ready to perform, he gave no outward sign that anything was amiss… because nothing was amiss, to begin with. The Decepticon warlord was calm as the surface of the long-dead Lithone. It was only the celebration of the first vorn he had had his pet. There was no reason to be nervous. Not at all. Hardly even a thought. Preposterous. Absurd. Unheard of. Yet…

 

The mech thought of the tiny box tucked into his subspace as his pedes closed the distance to his and Cole's chamber. A gift from Swindle-who was _still_ apologizing for the incident on Tintilak-4!- to accompany the item Megatron had commissioned. Funnily enough, he'd had to delve into the archives to find what he was meant to do for a first anniversary for his kind, but could find the answers to human anniversaries with a short search. The warlord was sharply reminded that humans rarely reached eighty years of _age_ , let alone the eightieth _anniversary_.

 

Still, diamonds wouldn't do on their own. This had to be unique.

 

Cole would love it. He had to love it. If he didn't love it, then the gifts would end up shoved out of the nearest airlock, and the warlord would be out an exorbitant amount of credits… not that it mattered. The credits didn't deter him in the first place. He hadn't spared any expense in the past, and he certainly wouldn't on this orn of all orns. So long as Cole was happy, to pit with the costs.

 

So, naturally, when the mech opened the door to their chambers and found his beloved pet rolling across the floor of the tank, swearing and flailing about like he was fighting a rogue scraplet… well, who could blame the mech for laughing?

 

The man halted and flicked his head up to the sound. "Aw fuck. I thought I could do it before you got back."

 

The churning thrum of the mass-displacement mod sounded as Megatron leaped into the tank. "Do what, exactly?"

 

Cole inhaled deeply and frowned up at the mech from his place on the floor. "Get the cuffs-" he rattled the chains between his ankles angrily- "behind my back!"

 

"...fully clothed?"

 

"I-mmm… okay." Cole shrugged. "I didn't think this through," he muttered sheepishly as his master uncuffed him and lifted him from the floor.

 

Megatron stood the man up and paused. What in the name of the Allspark did Cole have on his face? Slowly reaching out a black servo, the mech traced the line going from Cole's lower lip to his chin. "What is this?"

 

"Oh, uh… Hoverbolt thought it'd be a good idea." He felt his cheeks flush with red and heat swelled in his stomach. "I told her this orn marked an entire vorn as your pet, and I wanted to do something for you. But, uh-" A cool, metal thumb pressed his lips shut, and he peeked up at his master through his bangs.

 

"Her attention to detail is superb." His optics smoldered as they met gray eyes. "but, you'll be happy to know you're not the only one to remember today." The mech withdrew from Cole for a moment and reached into his subspace to pull free a simple, brown box. He presented it with both servos and reminded himself that he _did not get nervous._

 

"Oh, thank you, master!"

 

Megatron chuckled and pondered why he'd had any doubt. "You haven't opened it yet, pet."

 

Cole gently took the box with an inward grin. "Yeah, well, you know me..." he trailed off before digging a finger into a fold in the paper. He crumpled the plain paper into a ball and tossed it to the waste-bin to his far left. His throw missed by several feet, leaving the paper ball to lay on the floor. "Oh. Okay, then." The blond turned back to Megatron with a sheepish smirk before the tips of his fingers found the lid of the flat box.

 

The mech stopped him with a cool servo. "Wait."

 

"Yes?" Cole asked with a confused blink, hand flat to the top of the box.

 

"On the bed, pet." He couldn't contain his grin and sat at the foot of the bed.

 

The man let out an excited squeak and happily plopped onto the bed. "May I open this now, Master?"

 

With a low hum, the mech nodded.

 

Cole popped the lid of the box open and paused. Silk sashes in the style of silver-red tie-dye sat folded within. Pulling them free, a much tinier box was revealed to be nestled inside like a precious egg. He eyed his master curiously. "Master, you got me _three_ things."

 

"Two. The sashes are a set."

 

"I barely got you _one_ thing!" He didn't regret the facial markings, but they fell painfully short compared to new toys and a mystery box.

 

"If it's any consolation, Swindle was adamant about making up for the Tintilak-4 incident." The mech smirked slyly. "The sashes were his idea."

 

"Gotta love that kinky bastard." But what about the other box? Pinching the tiny box and plucking it from the nest of scarves, Cole slipped his thumb under the thin flap and popped it open. It took a moment for him to understand, but he felt himself tear up. In the box lay a palladium disk maybe half an inch across, with a matching ring twirled through a hole at the top. The Decepticon insignia had been etched into the surface with a matte finish. The optics each had a tiny diamond set inside to catch the light. Covering his mouth, Cole let out a sound halfway between a laugh and sob. "Megatron, you're gonna make my makeup run!"

 

"I take it I know how to provide a proper gift?" A mote of worry laced his words.

 

Dabbing an eye with the back of his hand, the blond nodded. "Yes, master. I love it."

 

Megatron hummed in contentment, the anxiety he _did not_ feel curling away like windblown smoke. "Perfect." He took the tag and fiddled with it, trying to fasten it to the tag onto the D-ring of the collar. "Palladium is a classic gift for first vorn anniversaries..." He trailed off when his efforts to affix the trinket were futile. Deft as his digits were, this was too delicate for his servos. "Slag." Of all the times to learn a task was beyond his skill set, it was _now_.

 

Cole stifled a laugh and took his master's servo from his neck. "I got this." He slipped a thumbnail into the ring and split it, before twisting it until the tag was securely hooked to the D-ring of his collar. It made a delicate tinkling sound as it swayed. "How's it look, master?"

 

The mech lay a servo to Cole's cheek and languidly ran the digits through platinum waves.

 

"Now the fun can begin!"

 

The mech grinned. "Oh, gifts aren't fun?"

 

Cole giggled in reply. "Sorry that sex got boring!"

 

Megatron trailed the black servo resting in the man's hair down to his chest, just off-center to feel that beautiful heartbeat of his. With a scoff, he shoved him backward and crawled over the mattress. "Excuse _you_." He straddled the man, his elbows on either side of his head. "Tell me this, pet," he asked as a servo gripped a fistful of hair and tugged to force the man to look him in the faceplate. "Frog-tie, or jackknife? We simply must break in those sashes, you know."

 

Gray eyes glanced upward in thought before they locked with blown pupils onto scarlet slits. "Surprise me."

 

He did. With _enamored_ enthusiasm.

 

_**x** _

 

_**Even though I can't compare** _

_**and I'm sorry if I stare** _

_**I just want to do everything** _

_**Maybe I could learn how to love** _

 

_**People say this love is wrong** _

_**but all I want is to belong** _

_**I can say without any doubt** _

_**everyone should learn how to love like you** _

_**Love like you** _

_**Love like you** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This version of the song is the cover of Love Like You by Caleb Hyles. [for added feels check out the ErrorxInk duet.]


	15. Year 96: I Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human is taught by the traveler, learns of the monster, and listens to the warlord.

**Year ninety-six: I Found**

 

 **X**

 

 ** _And I'll use you as a warning sign_  
_That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind_  
_And I'll use you as a focal point_  
_So I don’t lose sight of what I want_  
_And I've moved further than I thought I could_  
_But I missed you more than I thought I would_  
_And I'll use you as a warning sign_  
** **_That if you talk enough sense, then you'll lose your mind_**

 

**X**

 

Key clicks. Sharp digits on buttons. A low voice in a dark room. “This one.”

 

“Hello. First one you taught me.”

 

“Correct. This one.”

 

The man snapped his fingers. "Numerical! Uh… one through- no!" Cole's face scrunched up in thought. "Zero to ninety-nine!"

 

“Correct.” Cyclonus tapped a key on his computer. “So you _can_ learn.”

 

“I have my moments!" The man took a drink of water from a nearby bottle before examining the new formation of symbols. "Okay, uh… it's a name because the bottom symbol is larger and the smaller ones are above it. It's- DUDE!" he shouted, recognizing his own name in glyphs. "That's me!"

 

“Well done.” Cyclonus clicked the next button, and a new name arrived on screen. “This?”

 

“Uh… Lugnut!” He announced several other names, only getting caught up on a few. Blitzwing’s name tripped him up the worst. Once he’d cycled through every name on the ship’s roster, he beamed. “How was that?”

 

“Some faults, but you are improving.”

 

“I guess so! You're a great teacher." When he'd asked to learn how to read Cybertronian, Megatron had laughed. Still, he humored his beloved pet and allowed him to have lessons with Cyclonus. Recluse though he was, the mech had more patience than many. The mech was among those few that Cole had deemed 'safe,' for all that meant.

 

A last name and Cole chuckled. "That's our lord, Megatron."

 

“Half right. It is Lord Megatron, though he is not _my_ lord.” While his tone didn’t change from cool boredom, he did glance away towards his habsuite window. Blackness and stars were all one could see yet the view was nevertheless breathtaking.

 

Cole frowned, brows pinched. What Decepticon could serve the cause but _not_ Megatron? “Then who is?”

 

“You needn’t concern yourself.”

 

“Humor me?”

 

The horned mech watched Cole for a few moments, before releasing a huff of air. “How true is your word?”

 

“As true as the will of Primus.”

 

“Then I will show you upon one condition. You are never to tell a spark where you heard this name.”

 

Cole nodded. He could do that. “Not a word. On my life.”

 

The mech blinked slowly and turned to the keyboard. Cyclonus' face never changed as he typed into his personal computer. A 3D image appeared on the projection platform, a bit taller than Cole.

 

Blinking, the man squinted at the translucent being. Armed to the teeth, with wings jutting from his back and tank treads on his lower arms and legs. Inky black base coloration with neon violet trim. He had a grim, maddened expression that was almost a permanent snarl. Scarlet optics burned with hate and instability, even as a still image. He was charging, one servo opened into a clawed set of hooks, mouth agape and full of sharp fangs, even behind the cage that covered the lower half of his faceplate. The other servo wasn’t a _servo_ , but the opening to a canon that still smoldered.

 

That’s not what made the human afraid. He saw mechs as armed and unstable as this one orn in orn out, but not who this deranged nightmare was supposed to be. “Uh… holy _shit_. What’s his name?”

 

Cyclonus’ optics glowed faintly in the dark as they landed on Cole. “Galvatron.”

 

“He sounds..." He mulled over how to put it lightly. "Unpleasant."

 

The mech hummed lowly in agreement. “I pray that none on this ship need meet him, but there is no promise of that. All who fall to him are in for a whole world of pain.”

 

“Oh. Is he, like, around?”

 

Cyclonus growled. “He is _coming_. Swift and unforgiving. Those who fight and die under his rule know only terror. While there is hope that he can be defeated, it is… slight.”

 

“Oh, well, hold onto that hope.”

 

For once, the mech’s face changed, if only lifting a brow slightly.

 

“Hope’s all we have sometimes. If there is any, hold onto it.” Hope was all he had when he was homeless. It was all he had when he was trapped in that forest fire waiting for Megatron, and it was all he had when the Autobots abducted him all those years ago.

 

Cyclonus' face went back to its cold indifference. "Perhaps." Picking the man up like a child would a toy figure, he stood and headed for the door from his habsuite. "But that is enough for now."

 

“Okay, okay. Little tight.”

 

He loosened his grip a fraction.

 

“Thank you for the lessons, Cyclonus. If you want, you can leave me with Shockwave until lord Megatron is free to take me.”

 

The dull-purple mech more glided than walked. “I will inform Megatron that your lessons are coming along well enough to advance.”

 

“Sweet. He’s gonna like that.”

 

Cyclonus said nothing in reply.

 

/

 

Megatron liked the news of Cole's progress immensely if the cuffs were any indication. Not a breem back in the chamber before the man was cuffed and riding! "Primus don't stop!" The impending release was so close, and Cole was left teetering tortuously on the fine edge of bliss that he felt ready to snap clean in half.

 

The mech growled, servo quickly sliding up from Cole’s thundering pulse to grasp his collar. “You do not order me, pet.”

 

“Please!” The man wriggled, face flushed bright red as he tried desperately to press his master’s thick plug deeper. He was going mad being held there at barely half-way! “Please, master. I wanna cum so bad.”

 

The black servo didn’t loosen. “ _Beg_ .” When his pet squirmed and tried to press down on his plug again, he growled loudly. “Beg for it, _pet_.”

 

Panting, Cole whined and almost kicked out a leg to get back on that beautiful plug. "Master, please, please!" He moaned the last word. "I need your thick plug pounding me until I can't walk! Every klik without you inside me is a fucking nightmare!" He clenched around what he could, hearing a pleased hum from the mech under him. "I need you so bad I'm gonna go crazy! I love it when you manhandle me like this, please, please! Ruin me, just don't stop!"

 

Megatron growled before bucking his hips upwards, making the man scream with a mix of pain and pleasure. His free servo gripped the man by the thigh and held him by collar and limb as he hammered into the tight heat with a snarl. “Say it!”

 

“Please fuck me!”

 

Megatron's servos gripped Cole by both thighs, the sound of flesh meeting metal growing louder and faster. It wasn't long before he hit overload, left arm curling around Cole's lower back and pulling him down. With a rasping scream, the warlord raised his cannon and fired a shot into the air. The human pressed tightly to him was panting loudly and struggling to keep up his pace in this new position, and he finished with a whimper.

 

It took at least another breem for the pair to come down from, all soft panting and the whir of burning internals. Carefully undoing Cole’s cuffs, Megatron ran his servos against the damp flesh of his back.

 

“Ho-ly shit,” uttered the still panting man.

 

“Agreed.” He’d never fired his canon during interface before. Primus alive, there was a hole in the ceiling.

 

He smiled sheepishly. “Uh… master?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“Hate to ask this, but, uh, c-can you help me to the bathroom?”

 

The mech’s expression faltered. “Did something break?”

 

“N-no, but you deff ruined my walking for a while."

 

Megatron’s faceplate flickered with a touch of guilt. “I didn’t think I was pushing you that far.”

 

The man giggled. "I asked you delivered!" He was lifted carefully off the bed and brought to the bathroom. Cole rested his head against the mech's chest plate, soaking up how safe those metal arms made him feel. "So… about the hole in the ceiling."

 

Megatron scoffed. “That scorch mark? Please.” He’d repair it at a later time. Possibly not ever. Carefully adjusting the man’s legs, he settled him onto the waste receptacle.

 

Cole wiggled his toes, gray eyes roving the bathroom. His master, all grays and reds with black bits, in a pristine, white bathroom. The tiles gleamed, leaving brick patterns across Megatron’s shinier bits while the mech busied himself with cleaning his plug. The human smirked. “Y’know, of all the things we’ve done?”

 

The mech quirked a brow.

 

“Watching me _poop_ is a first. Enjoying the show?” The fact of having a plug up there was that he often had to empty himself out after the deed. Not always, but still a fact of life.

 

Megatron let out a low laugh that came back as a tinny echo. “Your sense of humor never ceases to shine through.”

 

“I aim to please, master.” He shrugged. “I think a hot bath will help. I need one.”

 

“That can be arranged.” The mech closed his codpiece with a click and straightened himself to stand. Turning to the tub, he scrutinized the taps. “Do you have a preferred temperature?” Funny, he thought he would know this by now.

 

“No? I like it hot but not boiling?” His complexion paled further. “Does that thing get to boiling?”

 

The squeak of taps answered him. One perfect-temperature soak and soft conversation later, Cole felt like he could run to Saturn and back! Fluffing his platinum waves as he sat on the lip of the draining tub, his lips curled into a warm smile. “Is there anything you can’t do, master?”

 

“Mm, affix a tag to a collar?" He stood from his seated place beside the tub and pulled his pet to his chassis. "But I doubt that's what you mean." Slipping his left arm to hook under Cole's knees, he picked the human up like he were light as an empty cube. As a matter of fact, Cole seemed to have lost weight. A pang of worry touched his thoughts; how hadn't he noticed sooner? When had picking his pet up and carrying him become so rare that he didn't see something like that?

 

Cole giggled in the arms of his master, oblivious to the inner turmoil starting to brew. “I _think_ I can walk.”

 

“Mm, too late. We’re already here,” said the mech before settling the man onto the mattress. He was dry, he’d gotten the towel off the bed when Cole was in the tub, all was well. All that was left was to tuck the man in and join him for a while.

 

The man leaned back onto the pillows with a contented sigh. This was his favorite thing after a hard session; pillow talk. Just talking to his master and winding down through conversation eased him better than anything else.

 

Images of a mech with a caged face and demented optics made the calm settling over him shake loose. He risked it. “Master, was there someone who lead the Decepticons before you?”

 

Megatron, sprawled lazily on the bed beside him, raised a brow. “Eh?”

 

“Cyclonus and I were talking.”

 

“The mech can speak, then?”

 

“Barely.” He only opened up when he was talking about whoever the hell Galvatron was. Naturally, Cole needed to know who the hell Galvatron was. Who better to ask than his master? “He mentioned there was someone before you, but I couldn’t get a name out of the guy.”

 

The mech hummed. “Megazarak.”

 

Was… was that even a real name? “Bless you?”

 

He scoffed. “Before Decepticons and Autobots, there were Destrons and Protectobots. Megazarak was the mech who founded the Decepticons originally as a Destron splinter group.”

 

Cole folded both arms under his pillow, brows up. “Loving this history lesson, master. How did _you_ become the leader of the Decepticons, then?"

 

The mech frowned. “I bested Megazarak in combat and offlined him before he could stab me in the backplates. Treachery requires no mistakes. The strongest lead in this war of ours, pet.”

 

Brows furrowed in thought, Cole’s gray eyes scanned his master’s faceplate in search of answers. Finding none, he asked softly. “How long has this war been going on?”

 

“By human accounts, several million years.”

 

He blushed at the realization this brought. “...holy shit. You’re _ancient_.”

 

A black servo met platinum blond hair. “As was Megazarak when he was overthrown.”

 

“Good lord, I-I must look like an amoeba to you or something.”

 

“A funny little amoeba.”

 

“Is that my new nickname?”

 

“Possibly.”

 

Scooting closer to the mech, he peeked up through his bangs. “You ever wonder if anyone’s plotting their time to take over?”

 

Megatron’s relaxed posture tightened. Lip components ticked to the side.

 

The man shrank back a little. “Uh… master, I’m sorry that I’ve asked the wrong thing. I didn’t mean to imply-”

 

More petting the hair. Primus alive, he _loved_ the hair. “I know, pet.” The mech frowned as the cogs turned. He might as well talk about it. “Have I ever told you how I came to be on Earth in the first place?”

 

“No. Storytime?"

 

“Not much to it. Only a mech that had best stay hidden if he knows what’s good for him.” Optics glowing, he saw his human lit in scarlet. “My previous second in command. A treacherous seeker, who was more bent on being praised than leading us to any sort of victory.”

 

“Ew. He have a name?”

 

“Starscream.”

 

Cole giggled. “I’m sorry. That’s a stupid name.”

 

A smokey chuckle. “He was a stupid mech. After his first betrayal, I ripped his wings clean off.”

 

“Yikes.”

 

He felt Cole's pulse spike from where they touched. "He had them back after, oh… a vorn." Pitspawn was half-mad from sky hunger once his punishment was over. Seekers didn't handle being ground-bound well. "Does the thought frighten you, pet?" he purred, but the worry was felt under the flirtation.

 

“...kinda. A vorn without a body part? Yikes.” Still, he smiled. “But, your story. What’s Starscream have to do with Earth?”

 

A low, discontented hum, before Megatron, answered. "A small crew and I had been searching for the Allspark for the absolute longest time. Quite boring. Little results, until an Autobot ship came into view. Their vessel carried the very thing I had been searching for." He let out a quiet sigh, sending the man's hair afloat for a moment. "As I was leaving to retrieve the Allspark, Starscream came forward to wish me _luck_.” He spat the final word.

 

Cole’s free hand came up to caress his master’s audio, gaze focused. “You don’t have to go on if you don’t want to.”

 

“An old wound, but the scars do ache. Starscream planted a bomb onto my back. It detonated, and I arrived in several, broken bits onto your tiny blue planet.” He shut his optics. “A human reverse engineered Earth technology by scavenging what remained of my original shell, and I spent fifty or so years as nothing more than a helm and… servo...” The Decepticon warlord trailed off at the familiar sensation of organic warmth stroking his chin markings. His optics opened to Cole’s sad, gray eyes.

 

“That’s sick. No one deserves that.”

 

“Mmm." One good thing came from that mudball. He smirked. "What of you, pet?"

 

“Me?”

 

“You’ve never truly shared what brought you to this point.”

 

The man picked at the bedspread. “Well, if you wanna hear it!” His hand slid down to rest against Megatron’s chest plate. The Decepticon insignia’s beveled bits were almost fun to play with. “My parents were Cornelius and Bridget Grinder. My dad, male parent? Was a Marine-” realizing half of those words meant nothing in this place, Cole plucked up simpler ones. “-a _warrior_ killed during a suicide bombing overseas. I was… what, four? A, uh, sparkling, I think? Barely knew him. Mom went off her meds and got super unstable. My older sister ran away.”

 

Megatron’s expression soured. “And left you behind?”

 

Cole shook his head. "She was fifteen- a youngling and was formatted with the wrong body. Mom was against her reformatting into a femme body. Fifteen is too young for a human to be on their own, let alone take care of a kid." The aching memory of Nell filling a backpack resurfaced. A bag and a jacket, the words' be good. I love you,' and out the window, she fled.

 

The mech’s faceplate scrunched in distaste. “What a pointless thing to be against.”

 

“Yup. Then it turns out, I was queer as a three dollar bill!”

 

Megatron blinked in mild confusion.

 

“Oh, uh, it’s an Earth thing. Just means I’m _undeniably_ gay. Mom didn’t like that!” He laughed about it now, knowing that he wasn’t in danger from Bridget anymore. His laughter petered out as the memory emerged. “I think she was trying to kill me. Dunno if she meant to, but-” He swallowed. “She had her hands around my neck. I couldn’t breathe.” Either she let go when he blacked out, or he blacked out as she let go. Cole doubted the order mattered.

 

The mech chirruped. A funny noise to hear from him. “So, _that’s_ why you refuse breath play.”

 

“Yeah. You grabbing my collar was okay, though. Promise it was. Just no hands." Hands around his neck put him back with Bridget. That time when the person who was supposed to love him and guide him decided hurting him was the better route.

 

A black servo cupped the man’s face. “To think such a lowly creature could have a hand in making you.”

 

“I think-” he swallowed. “It was mental illness that got worse when dad died.”

 

Growling, the mech leaned and rasped out the words like a command. “That’s no excuse.”

 

“I know that now. You know how I have my sharks? Bridget had beetles. She thought they lived inside the gaps between teeth and bones. Wasn't pretty when she tried to-" The image of a razor wedged between the canine and molar of his mother's swollen, crimson mouth made him shut his eyes. He was eight and couldn't find a phone to call for help. A neighbor heard the screaming, and Cole got to spend a week with his maternal grandma… then was back in Bridget's unbalanced clutches. She took her meds just long enough to look stable and have him back in her talons. "So yeah, I ran away too. Me, I was fourteen. A couple days after running, there was, uh, Jake."

 

The mech rolled with the change in subject. “The monster.” The assailant who took advantage of a scared youngling.

 

“Heh, yeah. Good thing was I found my sister. We had a fight, and I ended up being abducted on behalf of a certain handsome robot.”

 

Touching their foreheads together, Megatron chuckled. “You _certainly_ know how to sweet talk." How could he be outraged at things he couldn't change when such a beautiful creature was before him now?

 

“I have my moments. One more thing?”

 

Brows lifted in question.

 

He’d gotten a history lesson but not an answer. “Does the name _Galvatron_ ring any bells?”

 

“No? Where did you hear such a name?”

 

Cole shrugged. “Around. Probably misheard something, knowing me. I thought that might have been the guy before you.” He snuggled further under the blanket. “But that theory’s out the airlock.”

 

Cole never met Galvatron and prayed that he never would. While the mishmash of a mech was all but evil incarnate, the man knew something was wrong with what Cyclonus was saying. Cole knew those optics that Galvatron bore, so full of fury and lunacy. They were the same optics that he'd gaze into after a scene ended. The same ones that gazed back at him with such fondness and love.

 

He decided Cyclonus was just… confused. It was the only explanation. His master was fierce and determined to a fault, but he could never be that amalgam of parts and darkness that Galvatron was. Galvatron was a monster. In Cole’s eyes, that was the one thing Megatron could never be.

 

**X**

 

 ** _Oh, and I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_  
_Right in front of me, talk some sense to me_  
_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_  
_Right in front of me, talk some sense to me_  
_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_  
_Right in front of me, talk some sense to me_  
_And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be_  
** **_Right in front of me, talk some sense to me_**


	16. Year 135: I am Not a Robot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human is harmed, but is the warlord to blame?

Year one hundred thirty-five: I am Not a Robot

 

**X**

 

 ** _You've been acting awful tough lately_  
** _Smoking a lot of cigarettes lately_  
_But inside, you're just a little baby, oh_  
_It's okay to say you've got a weak spot_  
_You don't always have to be on top_  
**_Better to be hated than loved, loved, loved for what you're not_**

 

**X**

 

Cole awoke one fine orn to the fact that gravity decided to just stop existing for a while. Again. He drifted towards his master's helm, arms crossed as he hovered yards from the floor.

 

The mech had taken on his full size, likely when the gravity gave out, and he found himself floating several feet from any ground. A fall at his full size wouldn't hurt, but at the size the mass-displacer made him, it could be fatal.

 

The man unfolded his arms and spun on an unseen axis. “Okay, so-” Cole flailed a little in the air and quickly gave up- “what’s the shelf-life of a gravity fuse?”

 

The mech drifted, pushing gently off a wall when his pede made contact. “Several hundred vorns, and yet we’re here.”

 

“Am I gonna have to grease up again? I’m not as limber as I was!”

 

Megatron caught Cole by a leg and tugged him towards his faceplate with a scowl. "Doubtful. The prior pitfalls have been accounted for. All we need to do for now is wait." He let the man go, only to find him drifting away again. The warlord frowned. "Oh, for spark's sake."

 

“Yeah, this is bullshit. Any idea why the lights are down too?”

 

“A terrible design flaw.”

 

“Damn straight.” Cole’s gaze danced from the bed in the tank, to the scarlet optics of his master, to the hole in the ceiling from how-long-ago? “There _is_ one good thing.”

 

“Eh?”

 

The blond grinned in space. "I can see your pupils, master." He fluttered his lashes at the mech. "Anyone ever told you you have gorgeous optics?”

 

The human received a gentle push with black digits for his flirtations that sent him spinning. “Later, pet.”

 

“Think I could breaststroke to the floor without running out of breath?”

 

Megatron had gripped the edge of his berth and scoffed. “You couldn't breaststroke to my codpiece without running out of breath.”

 

Cole laughed as he drifted into being upright. "Not with that atti-"

 

The gravity came back with a vengeance.

 

There was no beanbag this time. Just a meaty thud and a resounding “Fuck!”

 

Megatron came down on his berth and let out a grunt before quickly sitting up and rolling onto his pedes. “Cole!”

 

The man lay not far from the berth, in a half crouching-seated hunch. The tension that wracked his body was so tight it was bordering painful. “M-master-” Cole swallowed thickly with frightened eyes transfixed on his left leg. “I-I think-”

 

Megatron was upon him in no time on bent knee, black servos outstretched to lift Cole from the floor.

 

“Wait!” The man held up a hand. “I think my leg’s broken, or at least super fucked up.”

 

The mech’s optics narrowed before he held one black servo out to his pet, balancing himself on the other. “Can you stand?”

 

Cole placed a pale hand to a black digit, pulling himself up to stand. All of his weight rested on his right leg, swaying from the shift in his balance and the pain. “I’m gonna try.” He shifted some of his weight to his left leg and pain exploded somewhere below the knee. “Shit!” the man crumpled and let himself fall into the waiting servo, arm around the thumb of it. “No. It’s busted. I hope there’s a medic that knows bones.”

 

Megatron's optics narrowed into slits. Standing slowly with Cole clutched in a servo, he turned to the tank Plucking the pillows from where they'd fallen, the mech made the bed presentable before setting Cole onto it. "Be still." Quickly sending a call over the comm line for a medic, then sat on his berth and waited.

 

Cole, for his part, shot the mech a flat look.

 

Not a breem later, something tiny and covered in sharp bits tumbled from the air vent up against the back wall. Said sharp-thing crept like a spider towards the tank and flung itself onto the pillow next to a bewildered Cole's head with a tinny thud.

 

Never let it be said that Scalpel couldn’t make an entrance. "Oh, fuck, not you again."

 

“Oh, but it is I!” Scalpel’s sharp bits and many limbs flitted as he crawled over Cole’s bad leg. “Who designed calcium-based struts?”

 

The man sighed. “Can you fix my leg or not?”

 

Scalpel chuckled darkly, picking his way to perch on Cole’s foot. “Simple fix, but will need a consult. On his way now.”

 

The man rolled his eyes and grumbled. "You're lucky that's my bad leg, or I'd punt you into the roof."

 

Scalpel cackled and scrambled onto the mattress, optic gleaming. "The meat can talk big, but meat is still meat."

 

“You wanna get bitchslapped again?”

 

The spidery medic waved a claw at him. “I’m quaking!”

 

Their little tiff was cut short by a ropy mech with a black and green paint job entered the room. A large case sat in one razor-tipped servo.

 

“Hey, Oilslick!" Cole gave a short wave and shot the mech a lopsided smile. "Lemme guess; you're the bone guy?"

 

“I’m the chemist who happens to collect medical oddities. This-” he lifted the case between two claws- “Is such an oddity.”

 

“Wazzat?”

 

“Minibot-sized strut stabilizer.” He tapped a claw to the case, brows sinking. “It’s typically for older mechs who have weak struts in need of stabilization due to rusting with age. Specially designated for minibots.”

 

“Thanks, captain obvious.”

 

That got the chemist to frown, but he was still careful with examining Cole's leg with razor-tipped digits. "You have a stable fracture, a single point of damage in the tibia. Be glad it's not compound." Oilslick hummed lowly. "Kept immobile, you'll be walking unimpeded in about ten orns. The stabilizer is designed to allow you limited movement such as walking, but only short distances.”

 

“So, like, the bathroom or kitchenette?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Cole shrugged. “Eh. I can live with that.”

 

The chemist nodded once, frown lifting slightly. “Any other damages?”

 

“My pride.”

 

“Not my specialty. Do you like those pants?”

 

Cole frowned down at the old pajama bottoms he’d been wearing. “No, why?”

 

Oilslick answered by grasping the hem and slicing the fabric cleanly open, exposing the flesh underneath. “Now then--” he popped open the case to show a remarkably weird looking tube, covered in screws and expandable bits-- “Let’s handle that bone.” With a gentleness that betrayed his strange claws, Oilslick slid the metal nightmare over Cole’s bad leg. “Scalpel, this is the delicate part.”

 

The insectoid pocket medic raced over the bedding and pounced on the device. He tightened the screws and bolts as he scuttled rapidly over the instrument.

 

Cole, meanwhile, gripped the bedspread with a hiss and grit his teeth. Burning hot pain lanced across his shin as the cage was tightened. It was over in a klik, but it hurt like the pit. He glanced over at Megatron on the berth and flashed a thumbs up.

 

Oilslick took notice. “Do you need pain medication?”

 

“That-would be nice-but-shit!” Cole fisted the sheets hard enough that his hands shook. “Don’t worry if you-don’t-have-it!”

 

The chemist blinked and reached into a side compartment on his abdomen. "You're made of meat." Oilslick placed a small latched box next to the human's good leg. "These are the smallest injectors I've ever manufactured. One of these to the fatty tissue in your upper thigh and the pain will be gone in a klik. One every other orn should keep the pain to a minimum.”

 

“Have I mentioned you’re awesome?” Cole asked as he popped open the container. Good god, those were some tiny injectors indeed! Who'd know Oilslick could make such delicate vials? Wasting no time, Cole plucked one up and placed the flat bit to his bad thigh. It felt closer to a mosquito bite than the hot-nail-in-flesh of his other injectors!

 

“On occasion. Stay hydrated.” Replied the mech as Scalpel scampered up his servo to his shoulder. Oilslick turned to his lord. “He should recover so long as he isn’t subjected to anything _strenuous_.”

 

The emphasis on strenuous made Scalpel giggle from his seat on Oilslick’s shoulder. Cole was thankful the little shit didn’t do much else as the two left he and Megatron alone.

 

Cole turned from the door to say something to Megatron, only to find the mech standing and shrinking down. “Uh-”

 

The shrunken mech launched himself over the tank wall and landed with a hard thud among the mess. Rising on steady pedes, Megatron's gaze fell on the human's bad leg, then rose to his face. The corner of his mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

 

Cole was… well, what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't run to his master and hug him like he wanted to, and the mech was easily read as pissed beyond belief! But at what? That's where Cole was at a loss. The blond folded his hands over his stomach and decided it best to wait.

 

Megatron busied himself-- he was _not_ delaying! He did _not_ delay!-- with picking up the floor of the tank. While the bookcase and bedframe were magnetized after the first incident, everything else went about anywhere it willed. First, the books were put back into alphabetical order. Seemed nothing on the top shelf had been dislodged. Second, came the clothing hamper; nothing much to do there but gather a garment or two. That done, the mech turned to examine the tank once more. Cleanup was… more straightforward than he'd hoped. All that was left to do was...

 

He strode slowly towards the bed and debated where to sit. The floor would do for now. Few could say they'd had him on his knees! The warlord didn't wait for the human to offer a hand and slowly reached forward to grasp the left one in his unarmed servo. The mech cycled his vents once before he growled lowly, “I should have caught you.”

 

The blond blinked. “What, from the other side of the room? Master, it was an accident.”

 

Megatron turned Cole’s hand over to face palm up, studying the appendage with darkened optics. Warm shades of pink painted over creamy skin. Indigo veins subtly pulsed with life in splitting lines and curlicues. “Had it been something vital-”

 

“Master.” Cole's hand turned to grasp the servo within reach, lacing their fingers. "It was gravity, not you."

 

“I jostled you. Let you drift when I had a hold on you.”

 

Brows rose in alarm. “You couldn’t have known that’d happen! We were playing.”

 

The mech held Cole’s hand firm between both servos. That incredible pulse that meant life still drummed as steady as ever. Carefully, the mech leaned down and kissed the back of his knuckles.

 

The man blinked, eyes falling onto the cage around his leg. He got a hell of a booboo, Megatron felt like shit for it. Now what? His free hand drumming a thought-based tempo across his thigh, Cole's gray eyes wandered from the leg cage to the bathroom, to the- Oh. Okay, that might work. "Hey." He idly rubbed his thumb across the cool black plating of a servo. "If it'd make you feel better, there's something you can do."

 

The mech lifted his helm.

 

“Go to my bookcase, pick one from the top shelf, and read some of it to me.”

 

Megatron did not move, save for a raised brow.

 

Cole’s smirk turned sheepish and tinged with a blush. “You don’t have to, but it’s an option.”

 

Reluctantly disentangling their digits, Megatron rose and strode to the shelves not far from their bed. “Why the top shelf?” he asked as he pried one free.

 

“I put the ones I think you’d enjoy up there. That way you’d have them in one place if you needed a distraction.” He grabbed the wadded-up top sheet and tossed it over his legs. “I know you read when you’re stressed.”

 

The mech eyed the book with much scrutiny. The spine was worn to reveal sandy paper underneath, the deep-green on the cover's corners worn away to match. It was well-loved if anything. Flat and dried wood pulp covered in ink symbols trapped within dried animal skin. “What an odd way to convey something like data.”

 

Cole shrugged. “E-readers _are_ a thing, but I like having books in paper form.” His mouth formed a sheepish smile, peeking through his bangs. “And, if there’s a book I think you’d enjoy, it’d be hard to share it if I only had the e-reader, y’know?”

 

“Mm, fair point." The mech strode towards the reinforced armchair and set it to the left of the bed. He was about to take a seat when Cole reached out and ghosted his armor with his fingertips.

 

“You can sit on the bed.”

 

His mouth ticked to the side, lip components drawn taught. “Later.”

 

“A’ight.” He knew better than to push.

 

Megatron cracked the tome open and began. “Call me Ishmael.”

 

“Hello, Ishmael.”

 

That got a cough of a chuckle out of the mech. “If I may continue?”

 

Cole giggled and settled into the covers for what he’d hoped would be an entertaining joor. He fell asleep about two joors in, but Megatron? Well, he’d be adding _Moby Dick_ to his personal collection at a later date.

 

**X**

 

 ** _Guess what? I am not a robot_  
** _Guess what? I am not a robot_  
_Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot_  
_Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot_  
_Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot_  
**_Guess what? I'm not a robot, a robot_**

 

**X**


	17. Year 142: Mercury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The human and the warlord celebrate something seen from afar.

Year 142: Mercury

 

**X**

****

**_Rows of houses sound asleep_**  
 ** _Only street lights notice me_**  
 ** _I am desperate if nothing else_**  
 ** _In a holding pattern to find myself_**  
  
**_I talk in circles I talk in circles_**  
 ** _I watch for signals for a clue_**  
 ** _How to feel different how to feel new_**  
 ** _Like science fiction bending truth_**

 

**X**

 

“What’s the surprise, master?”

 

Megatron smirked down at his pet. “Telling you would ruin it, don’t you think?”

 

The two of them stood in an elevator, heading up towards the private observation deck. Cole sat comfortably in a black servo, a leg dangling over either side of the middle digit. “You’re not wrong, but...” He paused, then bounced a little on the servo with a wide smile. “You get me so excited!”

 

The warlord smiled fondly, the lights of the elevator setting off flashbulbs of purple and black as the two traveled higher.

 

“Why are we going to? Can you at least tell me that?"

 

Ruby optics flared in the dark as the doors parted to reveal the swath of the universe just beyond the glass. “See for yourself.” Rather than set the man down, the mech turned to a corner of the observation deck. Sat in it was a massive telescope on a platform that came to Megatrons’ chassis. Lowering the man to the platform, his smile broadened. “Go have a peek.”

 

Cole climbed down and made his way to the eyepiece, giving a bare limp now and again. He’d have a limp for the rest of his life, however long left he’d have. It didn’t hinder him much, a tiny hitch in his giddy-up. It was better than not being able to walk at all, at any rate! The eyepiece covered over a quarter of his face, but the blond was still excited to get such a fantastic view of the universe before him. “It’s amazing!”

 

“Look in the upper right section. That blue dot is your target.”

 

He did so, gray eye squinting before he turned away to gaze at Megatron in question. “What is it?”

 

The mech smiled softly, optics glowing in the dark. “Cybertron.”

 

Cole blinked and took another look. It was like looking at an LED a hundred yards away, but it was there. The planet that the sacred Allspark writings claimed was the shell of Primus. The place his wonderful master was created and rose to power. A place to conquer. "It's beautiful." He didn't ask how far out it was. He didn't want to know. It had taken this long to get this close… well, overthinking would kill the mood. Considering the mattress set up so perfectly to the right of the device, there was _indeed_ a mood in this room.

 

Megatron held the railing around the telescope's platform and activated the mass-displacement mod. With hardly an effort or thought, he pulled himself over the rail and landed behind his pet. "I haven't announced to the crew that the planet is within sight. _You_ are the first other than myself to know.”

 

“Thank you, master. I know this is a big deal for you, so I’m glad you-”

 

The warlord cut his pet off with a hungry kiss. He grinned against his mouth and hoisted him upwards. One servo grasped the soft flesh of a thigh, and the other took a fistful of platinum waves and tugged. The mech broke the kiss and growled against the fluttering pulse of Cole’s neck.

 

“Master, what if-” he gasped as a cool servo cupped his growing hardness through the fabric of his pants. “-what if someone comes in?”

 

The mech growled against the shell of his pets ear. “I’m formidable at any size, pet.”

 

Turning his head to give the mech better access to his neck, he sighed out, "God, don't I know it." A few steps backward had them both on the mattress, Cole frantically stripping his shirt free to lay in a pile to his left. He was working at his fly when he was halted by a servo. He blinked, gray eyes finding crimson optics a scant inch from his face. "Master?"

 

The mech withdrew slightly and gazed at his human with bright optics. “This _is_ a special occasion.” There was a faint click, and Megatron’s chest plates opened to reveal his spark. It thrummed and reached out with tendrils of plasma and stardust that faded like the tails on distant comets. His smile turned gentle. “What say you, pet?”

 

Cole was still awed by the beauty of a spark after all this time. They limited how often they let soul and spark interact, due to not knowing the downsides too much could cause his organic form. He blushed, peeking at the mech through lashes and bangs. “I say it’s an honor, master.”

 

A soft kiss, a team effort tilt towards the floor, and the soul and spark met as they had so few times before.

 

Cole plunged into the arctic depths and awoke to the sun beaming above the waves. The gray clouds that obscured it were faded to a golden veil, leaving a sunset above that the man floated up to see. Gold and embers painted the waves, and he turned. He hadn't surfaced that quickly before. The man turned in the freezing waves so cold they burned, but to his left, he found something new; the shore. The blond grinned and backstroked towards land without hesitation. He had to get there, even if he didn't glean why.

 

Megatron felt the warmth of the sun upon his frame, long grass tickling his pedes. He opened his optics to find that schism of the trust he'd broken over a vorn ago had filled into not more than a scar across the land. Trees swayed the sky at sunset above him. A world bathed in copper and fire, and there at a distance behind him was a sound. The mech had never turned to it before. The soft crashing of waves as they lapped the shore. The instinct, the need to run to that noise, consumed the mech, and he bolted.

 

Cole stopped on the shores when he could stand up, the waves coming to his knees. This was it, this was his limit in this space. The vast ocean that was Megatron lay behind him, and this sunny field and the rocky shore was himself. The sunset that painted the land was him, the clouds that veiled the sun were Megatron.

 

Megatron halted to where the grass gave way to sand, optics wide as he did so and found someone looking back at him. Beyond the man was the icy ocean that the mech understood to be himself, but he paid no mind to his own spark. His focus landed on Cole, and it remained on Cole as the realization sank in.

 

Cole could no more come ashore than Megatron could wade into the depths.

 

This was as far as they could go. As close as they could become with one of them lacking a spark. In conjunx pairings, the two coupling were to find the other by traversing their partner's spark and to meet where their sparks melded.

 

They couldn’t do that.

 

But knowing how close they could be to that title of _conjunx endurae_ ... It was enough. It was more than they thought they’d ever attain. Because they _were_ they. At least here. Now. In this place made only for them and by them.

 

The two of them gazed at one another, the human still and nude as waves crashed against his calves while the tide ebbed and flowed. The transformer stood tethered to the banks, the warmth of the sand under his pedes a comfort deep enough to ground him in this fantastic moment in time.

 

Then Cole smiled so bright as to shame the sun and Megatron was swallowed in the blaze of wondrous light.

 

Megatron came to upon hearing the intense and delirious laughing from Cole. He found himself grinning as well. “Well, I can say I’m not surprised to see your reaction!”

 

The man rolled off of his master and struggled to catch his breath. “Holy shit, that was amazing.”

 

“Indeed.” The mech adjusted an arm wrap around the man, digits playing a melody against the faint column of his ribs and spine.

 

“I saw you.”

 

“As I did you.”

 

A pale hand landed against the mechs chassis. “-and there was sunlight! I’ve never seen so much of it before now!”

 

Black digits fidgeted with platinum waves, optics half-lidded. “Your soul has never been seen without a sun high in the sky.”

 

“Think it means something?”

 

“...perhaps.” It could mean so many things, to have a sun setting in their shared world. But the mech would not dwell on it. He couldn’t. The meaning would be put under the plethora of things he did not wish to fully understand.

 

The two lapsed into silence, merely taking in the sounds the other made. The air entering the lungs within a ribcage and internals whirling calmly under cold plating.

 

“Uh… master. I hate to ruin the mood.”

 

“Mm?”

 

The man crossed a leg over the other to hide his crotch. “Did you bring wipes?”

 

“No?”

 

“Okay, then." The man glowered. "Guess we're stuck with a wet spot."

 

The hellion reached upwards to tap Cole on the bridge of his nose. “You have a wet spot. I’m fine.”

 

The fake-glare Cole had going melted into concern. “Wait, you didn’t-”

 

“No. I can assure you I reached overload.”

 

“...lucky bastard,” he mumbled, folding his arms. “Gets off without having to sleep in the wet spot. Should have let me take my pants off but no~."

 

Megatron laughed in the dark, a hiss more than anything else.

 

Silence reigned again. Nebula in the distance hung still like jellyfish on the tide. Stars littered the velvet backdrop of space.

 

Cole swallowed. “Master… uh, forgive me if I overstep, but I’ve been thinking about this for a long time.”

 

“Speak, pet.” A servo found platinum waves.

 

“What’s the war for?”

 

The servo paused.

 

“I-I mean what are you fighting for? No wait, I-”

 

“Hush.” He stroked the mans bare arm, feeling his heartbeat under the soft skin. “You’ll never be in trouble for asking questions.”

 

“Right. I mean...” He mulled over his thoughts before trying again. “What is the main goal of the war? I understand it started as one thing and became another, but not the current situation.”

 

“Control over the planet.” Megatron hummed, optics looking past Cole to the windows. “You’ve read the sacred writings. What can you tell me about Primus?”

 

“He created all Cybertronian life, gave the Allspark to create new life, and his body as the planet of Cybertron itself.”

 

Megatron nodded. “While the Allspark has shattered, there are other ways to attain the final goal.”

 

“Which is?”

 

“To turn Cybertron into its own being once more. So that no one can take control of it or dominate it without it having a say."

 

Cole drummed his fingers on the mattress. “The sacred writings say that Cybertron is the shell of Primus himself. The Allspark is his moral compass and emotions, and Vector Sigma his mind and logical cortex. Without the Allspark whole, he couldn’t exist as a mech, could he? Missing his moral compass like that?”

 

“No.”

 

“He’d be a puppet.”

 

“Someone must be the puppeteer."

 

“...would that someone be you?”

 

Megatron said nothing but frowned grimly at his human.

 

“Is… is that why you tried to absorb the Allspark back on Earth?”

 

The warlord sighed. “Well, when you put it like that, it’s no wonder _I’m_ seen as a monster.”

 

“Er, I can’t say I agree with that plan, but...” The man sighed, gray eyes focusing on the stars beyond. “Maybe try to negotiate with the Autobots and come up with something that works for you both?”

 

The warlord scoffed. “They’d see it as defilement. I see it as liberation.”

 

“All I’m saying is… is give them the option. We both know they’ll say no cuz they _suck_.”

 

The mech scoffed. “Then why bother?”

 

“If they have the option and turn it down, you’re not gonna end up like Burr!”

 

The mech squinted. “Eh?”

 

“It’s a long story, but he ended up being a villain in human history when he didn’t negotiate. I dunno, I just… I don’t want that for you.”

 

The Decepticon warlord chuckled and pulled the conversation back to a common point. He found he had to do that more often the older Cole became. “Negotiation has never been an option.”

 

Cole sighed loudly and cuddled against the mech’s side. The thrum of his internals always eased his mind. “Well, fuck them, then. _I_ know you’ll do what’s best.”

 

The two fell silent for a final time, watching the stars pass beyond the ship's glass.

 

The mech mulled over what his pet said. Peace was not an option, and he knew it was too late to offer it to the Autobots. He craved war, control, power… yet, he loved Cole. Megatron contemplated his dear pet sprawled for a nap not far away. A servo found its way back to resting in the warm waves of platinum. As for being compared to some human called Burr? What did that matter? Cybertron was his for the conquering. It had been for millennia. If he were the one to usher the planet into a new Golden Age, only a fool would think him the villain. Besides, he couldn't be the villain if he rewrote history himself.

 

**X**

**  
** **_I’ll go anywhere you want_  
_Anywhere you want_  
_Anywhere you want me_  
_I’ll go anywhere you want_  
****_Anywhere you want me_**

 

**X**


	18. Year 160: Bubblegum Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After two vorns, the human evaluates his life choices.

**Year one hundred sixty: Bubblegum Years  
**

 

**X**

 

_**Lost souls, you and I, my dear** _

_**Whiskey bottle and a .45, my dear** _

_**We're on a roll, suitcase and cellophane, my dear** _

_**Whiskey bottle and a .45 satisfies, my dear** _

_**And someone's whispering into my ear** _

_**Asking softly, "What do you fear today?"** _

 

_**'Cause in faithless times** _

_**I know your hate** _

_**I seen your crimes** _

_**I felt your cruelty** _

_**In the bubble gum years** _

_**In the bubble gum years** _

 

**X**

 

Blessed. Fortunate. Lucky.

 

Cole could be described in so many words, but he preferred other ones. Fun, loyal, resilient, those fit him far better. He didn’t know any other human who could boast the age of one-hundred and seventy-eight! He’d survived abduction, gravity failures, and the duty of pet to the most powerful Decepticon in the universe.

 

Considering how much he loved his master, that last one wasn’t the hardest part.

 

So when Megatron had let Cole do as he pleased on their second vorn anniversary, he was a little bit confused.

 

Scratch that. _Incredibly_ confused. But he’d do his best to puzzle it out.

 

He smiled up from his place in Megatron's palm. “Setting up the tank and want me out of the way?”

 

“Certainly not.” He frowned, but not at the man. “This orn is beyond packed with things I cannot put off.”

 

Cole shrugged. “I’m sure I can hang with Hoverbolt for a while-”

 

“Most of this orn is occupied. I shall be lucky to have a moment to breathe.” His optics dimmed slightly. “If we cannot find a chance to celebrate, try not to be too upset.”

 

“Master, you have a job to do. Trust me, I don't take it personally. We don’t have to do anything, really. If you’re exhausted from war stuff or stupidity, that’s okay. I can hang in the tank for a while, and we can sort things later.” The man flicked his tag with a cheeky grin. “We’ve never _needed_ a reason to have fun, y' know?”

 

Megatron motioned to say something further but smiled softly instead as the two headed for Hoverbolt’s quarters.

 

/

 

Turns out, Hoverbolt was a perfect choice! More mechs than Cole had seen in prior gatherings had shown up for the movie! Seems Hoverbolt made friends when he wasn’t around. Blitzwing was a shock, though.

 

“Blitzwing!” Cole lit up at seeing the triple-changer. He received a faint smirk from Icy in return. “Haven’t seen you at a film night in _forever_.” His gray eyes fell on the turbofox the mech held. “And Mangle is looking great!”

 

“Throwing a chair at the credits tends to throw others off.” Blitzwing plopped the fox onto the desk.

 

The human grinned and raised both hands in surrender as Mangle sniffed him like he had glitchmice under his shirt. Satisfied that the meat creature was still made of meat, the fox made itself comfortable on its back behind him. It wanted to be a seat it seemed. “My fault for picking _The Iron Giant!_ ”

 

“What were you thinking, meatball?”

 

“I wasn’t!” He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. He turned to Hoverbolt with a bright grin before he sat with his back to Mangle’s stomach plating. “So what’re we doing today? Earth film or Cybertronian?”

 

The femme blinked. "Well, it's a big day for you, so how about a double feature?"

 

“I thought I was banned from picking after the chair incident?”

 

“Nah, ban’s lifted today!” She bared her denta at him, perfectly meshing shark teeth in an unadorned mouth. “What’s your first pick?”

 

“Uh… do you have _Hunchback of Notre Dame_?”

 

“Live-action remake or-"

 

The blond snarled "You put that CGI crap on screen, and I'll kill you in your sleep."

 

“Ooh, I’m shaking!” But she did as asked. He was cute when he played tough!

 

/

 

Wiretap had arrived a klik or so into the first film and stayed comfortably put for the second. The mech and man had long since mended their fences over whatever it was they’d done to piss the other off.

 

Hanging at the bar with Wiretap and Slapper was nothing but dirty jokes and bawdy bullshit to be found! Wiretap even brought a pillow for Cole to sit on.

 

“-and the medic says 'That's not a hygrometer, that's my conjunx!"

 

The three of them cackled in there are of the bar. It was almost empty during this time, but perfect for them to have their fun. Wiretap was seated on Slapper’s leg, and the massive mech seemed pleased with that.

 

Cole was happy for them. Really.

 

Wiretap turned to Cole in question. “Wait, what time is it?”

 

Cole blinked. “Wiretap, I’m made of meat.”

 

“Right! Right.” His optics flickered slightly. A disheartened scowl crossed his features. “Oh. Time to go for Slapper and I.”

 

“Got some mindless repetitive tasks to do?” Cole crooned teasingly.

 

Slapper grinned, his jagged jaw jutting forward. “Nah bruv. Ain’t into what’s comin’ up, but Blitzbrain’s said to keep you at the bar.”

 

“Okay?”

 

Wiretap lifted the man gingerly and strode to the bar. He frowned in thought. “Would you prefer being on the bar or on a stool?”

 

“I’m not a buttplug.”

 

Slapper snorted by the door. “Jus’ set him down. He won’t be alone long.”

 

Cole patted Wiretap’s green-gray plating. “Yeah, you go do butt stuff with Slapper and forget the meatbag on the bar, okay?”

 

Wiretap stuttered as Slapper guffawed. “Primus alive, Cole!”

 

Slapper grabbed Wiretap’s free servo and chuckled. “Time for butt stuff!”

 

“Not you too!”

 

The man smiled after the two of them. They were the second-least-likely couple he'd expect to see. Letting out a gentle sigh, he turned to examine the bar. The lights were set low, but violet bathed everything. The decor was scant, but it fit, considering how Decepticons went from buds to brawls in a nanoklik. The helm welded to the wall didn't bother Cole in the slightest. The bartender was spacing empty cubes into a pyramid on the shelf behind him, optics halfway hidden under large brows.

 

Funny. What was his name?

 

The blond cleared his throat, and the bartender turned, expression melting from deep concentration to something a little calmer. “Ah, Cole, hello.” The navy blue mech leaned down to rest on a forearm. “What brings you here?”

 

“Ah, well, Lord Megatron is busy as ever, so he's let me have an orn out with some of the crew."

 

The mech grinned, not a trace of malice to be seen. “Good. How are you?”

 

“Good! It’s a good orn!”

 

“How’re you feeling?”

 

“Pretty good. I haven't seen those two in a while. Can you believe they're an item? Wow. Good for them."

 

“I mean about where you are. Who you’re with.” The navy mech raised his brows in question. “All that interesting stuff behind you that got you standing on my bar.”

 

“How am I… uh...” He thought about it, rolling the idea about his mind as would a marble in a jar. “Not happy, but… something easier to attain?”

 

“Contentment?”

 

“Yes! Thank you!”

 

The bartender chuckled, his round optics sparkling in the violet lights. “Anytime. One more thing.”

 

“Yes?”

 

The mech cocked his helm a little, brows lax. “If you could do this whole thing over again, what would you change?”

 

Cole frowned. “That’s… a lot for a stranger to ask.”

 

“Right, that _was_ too heavy. Sorry about that. Now then.” He reached under the bar and pulled up a tiny, square bottle with a proper cork. “For you.”

 

Any ire towards this mech melted away. “Dude!” Cole grabbed his own head in one hand and made a shocked noise. “Where’d you get that? How’d you even- when did-” The man paused with a deep inhale. “Thank you.” He frowned a little. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”

 

The bartender waved his off. “Never mind that, Cole. Just have fun.” The mech looked past Cole and turned to the oil barrels behind him as Blitzwing entered the bar.

 

“Well,” Cole plucked up the bottle and popped it open. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind.” He downed it in one go, ignoring the burn against his throat. The bottle was empty quickly enough.

 

“Don’t party too hard, blondy!” cried the triple-changer as random grinned manically from the bar door. “We haven’t even started the music yet!”

 

“Music?”

 

Icy emerged. “I am permitted to hold one dance night a decivorn.”

 

“Oh! Is that this orn?”

 

Blitzwing shrugged. “Might as well be.”

 

“So those decivorns ago when you dragged my sad ass in here and played ping pong with me in the cockpit-”

 

Hothead erupted. “You were strapped down, you dumb little meatball!” Icy emerged to take back a modicum of control. “It has been approved by Shockwave as a boost to morale only.”

 

Cole giggled. “Since when did Shockwave give a crap about morale?”

 

“About the time you came along.” Random spun out and plucked the man off the bar. “You ruined everything!”

 

“Comes with the job.”

 

“You have a job?”

 

“Yeah! Loyal pet!” He winked. “I get paid in butt stuff.”

 

Random cackled as more mechs and femmes entered the bar. Icy emerged. “Do you want to be strapped in for this one?”

 

“Nah, but I’ve got a request.”

 

“Which is?”

 

The blond mulled it over. “If… if I put a playlist together, could you use it for a rave?”

 

“I don’t see why not.”

 

“I mean, like… after I pass on. Like a wake.” He held up both hands at Blitzwing’s confused stare.

 

“What’s a wake?”

 

“It’s when you’re not sleeping!”

 

Hothead erupted. “Quit being morbid, meatball!” Random spun free again and walked towards a broad shelf behind the bar. “You can have plenty of room to party up here! No pedes for crushing our favorite squishy!”

 

“Thank you!”

 

/

 

Cyclonus was a blessed quiet moment after the fray that was a mech rave. The two joor or so of music came to an end when the lights came on, Cole had happily danced his ass off. His cheeks and neck were flushed with pink, and he felt dizziness and hunger, but he’d had fun! Only a few brawls kicked off, but otherwise, a great night.

 

He didn’t mind a bit when the horned mech lifted him from the bar shelf and took him to the elevator.

 

“Oh, you’ve been sent to get me?”

 

The mech nodded.

 

“Shockwave’s as busy as Lord Megatron, I’m guessing?”

 

Another nod.

 

Cole smiled cheekily. “Not a talker today, Cyclonus?”

 

A helm shake.

 

“Don’t blame you.” The man sighed, his stomach all but demanding food that moment. He didn’t have to wait long. With his eyes shut and Cyclonus gone mute, he was back in his and Megatron’s shared chambers soon enough.

 

The purple mech paused as he approached the tank. “Thank you.”

 

“Dude, you dropped me off, I should be thanking you. So, thank you.” But the mech said nothing as he placed Cole into the tank. With a couple quick taps, the ion barriers were up again and Cole was sealed within. The man waved lazily. "Bye, Cy!"

 

The mech nodded, and left the room without another word.

 

Cole headed to the waste-receptacle and pissed like he’d held it for a week. He was a lightweight, but nothing too serious other than some wobbling. He decided to sober up with a gatorade and an oddity Swindle said was all the rage on Earth; a self-heating hotpot. The instructions were in Chinese, but the fill-lines and pictograms were enough. There was plenty left over for the next orn, and he took the time to chug another gatorade to quell the spiciness of his meal.

 

This orn was surprisingly fun, and Cole decided to end it on a good, calm note. Dinner, a shower, and finishing up _Henry VIII_. He knew Megatron would be back at some point, and he could be patient if he needed to be.

 

/

 

Exactly one joor later, the Decepticon Warlord entered their chambers with a faceplate loaded with exhausted calm. The kind that only came from hard work that promised high reward in the future to come.

 

He still looked like hell though. Cole noticed from his spot on the bed, lowering the nearly-done book. Hell, the silver hellion didn’t even do a flip on his way into the tank!

 

“Hello, master.”

 

“Pet.” Megatron strode slowly to the reinforced armchair and sat, exhaling loudly with his helm back. “This orn has come to an end and left me with mere dregs of energy.”

 

“I’m sure you got a ton done. That’s good.“ Picking at the worn corner of the book, he asked coyly. “Did you have a hand in my awesome orn?”

 

The mech in the chair cracked an optic. “Possibly.” His managed a faint smirk.

 

“Have I told you I love you today?”

 

“No.”

 

“I love you.”

 

Megatron let out a soft laugh. “And I you.”

 

“I'm almost done with this. It's been shit so far, but I'm giving it the last page or so to make up for it." Not but a klik later, Cole clapped the book shut and stood from the bed with a deep frown. “Fucking dry as hell! _Henry VIII_ can eat my ass.” The man chucked the book into the receptacle and all but slammed his foot onto the lever. “Whole thing, both cheeks. Good God in heaven.” The offending object was no more in a nanoklik.

 

The warlord lifted his helm and stared in amusement at the man. "My my, pet," Megatron smirked from his place in the reinforced armchair, perching his helm in his servo. He'd turned to watch the mans response, but that was something else! “ _Such_ a volatile reaction. I can’t recall any time that you’ve destroyed a book.”

 

Cole, for his part, gave the receptacle the finger. “I’ve heard that you gotta see Shakespeare performed to get it, but, don’t care. There goes some joors I’ll never get back. Damn.”

 

The Decepticon lowered his servo and leaned around the back of the chair, grinning. “I’m certain I could attain a performance for one of our lay-ins.”

 

“Doubt it’ll help.” Cole sighed and sauntered Megatron’s way. “It’d be like when we tried to get through _Love Never Dies_.”

 

“Viewer fatigue, I can assure you.”

 

“Hey, Hoverbolt worked hard on getting that bootleg to look good.”

 

“Am I meant to be grateful for a hideous film?"

 

The blond wrapped his arms around Megatron’s upper arm. The mech returned the gesture with his lower arm resting above Cole’s buttocks. "Not her fault it sucked."

 

“True.”

 

Cole smirked and peered up through his lashes. “If I remember it right, you were humming _Music of the Night_ for orns.” He could totally see Megatron humming _Hellfire_ to himself. Seemed that _Hunchback_ being on the roster was a smart move! The mech wasn’t interested in cartoons, but a musical cartoon? Cole doubted the mech would say no. After all, he’d loved _The Prince of Egypt!_

 

“A poor sequel doesn’t fault the original. I know what I like.” His servo slipped further down and gave a sharp squeeze to a cheek at the final word.

 

Cole squeaked and jumped away. “No fair, master!”

 

The warlord stood and crouched slightly, a grin stretching tauntingly across his faceplate. “When have I ever been fair, pet?” The warlord’s grin turned predatory. “Can you hit a note as high as Christine?”

 

“Nope!” The man let out a joyous yelp and scuttled away only to have his master grasp the seat of his pants.

 

“Oh no, you don't!"

 

“Master!” but the plea shattered into giggles as the two of them tumbled onto the bed. “I thought you were too tired for this?”

 

Smoldering optics gleamed down at him and black servos gripped the fabric of his shirt. “You’re worth a second wind, pet.”

 

He giggled and gave his master better angles to place his sharp love bites. Cole thought of that question that had been bothering him since the bartender asked it, what he’d do over given a chance to. Grinning as black servos worked under his shirt and dented his flesh in hunger, he had an answer.

 

Nothing.

 

There was a crunching sound as the bed frame gave out under their weight. The mech and the man stared at one another, before bursting into another round of laughter and picking up where they’d left off.

 

Cole changed his answer; nothing, but _maybe_ a stronger bed frame.

 

**X**

**  
_'Cause in faithless times_  
_I know your hate_  
_I felt your crimes_  
_I felt your cruelty_  
_In the bubble gum years_  
_In the bubble gum years_  
** **_In the bubble gum years_**

 

**X**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> butt stuff


End file.
